Off the Vine
Don't text me late at nightWhen aloneness has won the day;
When poetry swirls through my head
And darkness has muddied reason.
I might say something unexpected—
Fling poetry at you
Like overripe tomatoes
Leaving you bewildered
And covered in seeds.
Poetry by Nancy Sikora
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Written on 2015-10-28 at 02:57
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