Monday, October 21, 2013
Tanka For Two (A Somonka)
You rise every
day, my face in your pocket,
rubbing flesh red, raw.
I’m a sore spot you can’t feel.
I’m a prize you don’t dare keep.
You pushed me away,
greedy wants, needs, and wishes.
No me left to give.
I dream of you in black-and-
white. You’re my little secret.
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