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If i should weep as a weeping willow in
life, yet, a nursing mother's breast would
be gnawed into the bone.

So, gift me a diamond nail, and shatter
every mirror, with a shiny finger, still,
could i simulate a finch beak or bowel?

O! Life, I'm done yanking my sky off your
slimy dusks, flick me yon with your tiny
thumb, even to the land of figs, then chain
my feet to a time-worn plinth, verily,
I would dance with the fire, and the sea.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content


I found this to have some most unusual imagery.

[This is a duplicate account of Edna Sweetlove and been permanently suspended]

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