Burning ChaliceA Poem by Fran MarieA burning chalice, our love cup, it runs over pretense and any insincerity holding the truth serum we brewed with one another. and you, my lover hold the brush sweeping each kiss, each caress across a dark canvas bright filling gaps of what falls through when gray clouds drift those little rifts, biting quips anger arising in my eyes ones I cannot remedy yet ones you can mend when I grow remiss you best me with your kiss as they aim to shoot you down words the sound of serrated knives cutting the quick of your heart, still you buffer my temper softly telling me I'm wrong as I take another sip of truth © 2021 Fran MarieFeatured Review
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7 Reviews Added on October 14, 2021 Last Updated on October 14, 2021 Author
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