An Acrostic.


Sentimental

Seances I convened,
etched my blood on your
niobium coffin. I served
taramasalata at your wake, later
incinerated your recipes. Your
menage a trois, I gave in,
excited to be a part of your
nymphomania. Our strawberries shall
tell no tales of my hidden
areolae. I sewed up the one hole you
loved, and now they call me sentimental.




Poetry by Arti
Read 675 times
Written on 2007-01-16 at 20:47

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liz munro The PoetBay support member heart!
I like the feeling and flow of
this poem.....but I don't understand
the words, some of them I have
not heard before.

Liz
2007-01-22


Zachary P. B.
i think your linguistic skills are excellent, and your grasp at life enviable.

but i'm just a kid.
2007-01-17


wee2souls
wow!!smArti this one is wow!!lol!!
no words to say but!! A POET THATS FOR SHORE:))
hugs to you my sisterfriend
hugs
cindymac
2007-01-17