neck (Remove filter)
Rich Tea
we sit drinking coffee,
much is yet unspoken,
my cup looks cracked,
her biscuits all broken
the flat smells of damp,
split ends and oily hair,
scars bangle her wrists,
focus of my coy stare
by the hearth lies a cat
of a species I deplore,
yellow paint peels off
a lone bedroom door
on her neck a blemish
coated in stale powder,
all in all, a f...
Sunday 11th April 2021 11:15 am
Recent Comments
Meraj Fari on John Cooper Clarke to appear on Desert Island Discs
6 minutes ago
Evan Tyler on hugh
50 minutes ago
R A Porter on The Eternal Flame
1 hour ago
Robert C Gaulke on Like Children
1 hour ago
Nigel Astell on IMG_20240414_165928_HDR.jpg
1 hour ago
Graham Sherwood on SWINGING
2 hours ago
leon stolgard on SWINGING
2 hours ago
leon stolgard on Countdown to coffins and cremations
3 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Glenda
3 hours ago
Auracle on Bucket Of Love
3 hours ago