![]() Cigar AshA Poem by Mr.Boffin
The cigar ash clouds the room
but then it hides and the white rain flows down tit tatting on the window. A day ago when time flowed unilaterally the dusty door knob turned And you entered. And you entered. And you entered. : stylistically, devilishly, italically, fourth-dimensionally, The great avenues span years where the little feet stained black boots clocks tick walk. A Madame on your hand and mine on yours Me You I Same - © 2014 Mr.BoffinReviews |
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4 Reviews Added on June 30, 2014 Last Updated on June 30, 2014 |