by Miriam Calleja
We’ll call this last bottle ‘regret’
Later my crown will tighten
Thorns will scar my forehead
But right now let’s savour this potion
A river of gods sliding
Down the sides of my mouth
So easily
Let’s feast on walnuts and pears
Our fingers picking morsels
Absentmindedly feeding our chattering mouths
From:
Miriam Calleja
Copyright ©:
Miriam Calleja
Last updated October 14, 2014