Drinking from another mismatched
moon-eye
in another, should I have loved,
then only with my garden
should I climb to my roots
vowels sparse like bones
miraculous stone and hair
holding ultima, eating man
to the fuchsia, death of all things,
skin, a dollhouse of nicks.
© 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved
Written 2/17/2021
Pseudopsychosis. 
Wow. Amazing technique in writing. I had to read twice to even fathom the meaning of this piece and I think even that wasn’t enough. Why haven’t I seen you before on my feed? He he.
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Oh wow, thank you so much! 😁
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You’re welcome. Will be on a look-out for your future posts. 🙂
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That was beautiful, Lucy. I love the imagery and the surging rhythm. Well done!
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Thank you so much!
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This poem is so good. It squeezed my heart and makes me ache in memory of lovers in my past that should never have been. Awesome final line!
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Thank you, Priscilla!
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