She Grows CarsA Poem by CrowleyDon't trifle with the muse.If I have said one thing in my life That has been the cause of another man’s inspiration To write something so longing or so sad Or something that seethes magic or irreverence
It is only because she taunts me squarely Her long legs and high a*s dressed in candy Lips smooth like the reddest of red carnival glass Hips custom made for resting my cheek on
She busies herself about the yard Gathering the seeds I require Those high heels aren’t for weeding They are merely there because they match my ears
She places the seeds, burying them with lithe fingers Tipping the watering can and whispering my name From the ground sprouts a 65’ Mustang convertible She glances furtively over her shoulder to see my smile
She is my muse and suffers a fate Worse than any woman should need endure Keeping me interested enough in myself To write my lust as reflected in her eyes
She grows cars © 2023 CrowleyAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
Stats
384 Views
17 Reviews Added on June 12, 2018 Last Updated on April 24, 2023 AuthorCrowleyPhoenix, AZAboutLike to hang out with other writers and see what's what. Have met a lot of good people on this and other sites through the years. Decided to come back and do a little posting and reading. Hit me up i.. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|