Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Me In Your Ritual

A rotunda as round as spherical blue
makes eating clementines easier with you.
Shall you speak to me in verse
or lazily stare into my cross eyes?
I have a camera to take specific pictures of you.
A corridor as long as trombone's bell section
is to your projectile gaze,
erase me in everyone's mind as the sun
is set to fade.
Relax with me in tundra's plain
to exist for nothing but an Ecuadorian plated meal.

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