Structure

Work in Progress

An exhibitionist's proclivity is innate,
a propensity
wound up in bedsheets; a knotted parade.
This feral fatality is lamplit by malady,
festering effort
it's lessened by age.
A tirade, thankfully, during donated evenings
disposing the moment under hardening words.
Deepening dutifully; the bitterest giving,
breathless frustration
we're wingtipped by change.

Reviews

[Aunre]

Sounds finished to me.. in a good and complete sort of way, what more is there to say? If anything then say it with flowers. Can you smell words? OK, maybe the feral knotted bedsheets.. it could do with some laundry. :)

[Sami Khalil]

A good poem indeedd...Bravo

[zainul]

I hope this will be a great piece when finished.