Blog loving music poetry WRITING

rug burn trenches

rug burn trenches


scrooge came knocking

now i’m under
the tree

he’s done unwrapping

chocolate covered fingers
full of me


thought
holiday can’t hide the taste of melting placed in boxes and taped with invincible presence disguised by invisible ribbons of absence. open me and i become a decanter gripped in your well, an aroma that even a crumpled dollar bill couldn’t be hard pressed to sell.

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