To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!
Neonpoem Throw away your mascara, mousse and underwear. Wear these lines for a week, just one week, not a long time. Let the words mold your face, drape your shoulders, delicate breasts. Let the lyric infuse your dreams, scent your pillows press your thighs with invisible weight. At the end of the week if these Emperor’s clothes are your neon poem, call me. I’ll be here on hold, won’t have eaten, but won’t rewrite. You are new ink that will not dry. |
Sorry, there are no critiques for this poem in our system... If the poem is older, the critiques have been purged!