poetry Short Stories Uncategorized

the world was never meant for one as beautiful as you

when he has me to himself
the way he wants me
which is wholly


from my metropolitan
audience of one

loving eyes looking on spotlit lovely him

receptive ears hanging on his every well chosen word

this is when he sings to me

Guild guitar
we can’t help but kiss
above the strings

after the boxer
and suffering for our sanity
amidst vincent’s starry starry night

with me in tears
because he’s wearing the shirt i liked

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