12 Degrees & Skiving

what began as year-long challenge has become perpetual until further notice


her eyes were a carousel
braying sirens
a smile becalmed
envy tasseled each word
unbirthed, beached
on a salted margarita
lemon juice pearled
on a top lip


i suoi occhi erano una giostra
le sirene che ragliono
il suo sorriso bonaccio
l’invidia orlata ogni parola
nascitura, arenata
su un margarita salato
il succo di limone perlato
sul labbro superiore





Tell me wotcha reckon

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This entry was posted on October 11, 2016 by in Poetry.

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