CHRYSOPOEIA
this lead organ peeking beneath
my rib cage sheath, cracked and weary
turn this dull heart to noble gold
and promise to hold it dearly
just behind front door autumn wreath
making out, tongues soaked in whiskey
we puddle up on the landing
love soaked arrows keep us tipsy
2 thoughts on "CHRYSOPOEIA"
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I love how visceral this is. The title really captures the essence of the poem. And that last line— wonderful!
That’s a wonderful compliment, thank you so much!