exchange (Remove filter)
I've Been Wrung
Lick your fingers
Every last bit
Bend over
Take the hardest hit
Now, burn
And let me watch
Crumble
On the spot
Twist yourself in knots
I want the final drop
Then,
Become dust
Collapse and shed
Until the last sparkle
Of my Queens head
Is spent
Until the last glimmer
Of her glitter
Has bled
You belong to me
I own your soul
That is how
You line
Every pocket
With gold
Friday 18th September 2020 9:44 am
Legally Tender
`
The key of currency
is the changing of hands,
a baton passed on
in constant motion
that binds together
all its participants.
A fresh, crisp bill
is a virgin still,
between your fingers
whose anticipation
and epic journey
are yet to unfold.
`
Thursday 31st January 2013 2:24 pm
Recent Comments
Holden Moncrieff on Is it?
36 minutes ago
Wordseffectbrew on Piñata Earth
59 minutes ago
leon stolgard on Is it?
2 hours ago
leon stolgard on Just You
2 hours ago
leon stolgard on Beneath an audience of Stars
2 hours ago
leon stolgard on SPIKE-LIKE
2 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Tales of the Riverbank
2 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Shimmering Light
4 hours ago
Tom Doolan on One Tear at a Time
4 hours ago
David RL Moore on Tales of the Riverbank
4 hours ago