Replying to a comment on:

strange beds (1983) (Free verse) by Bill Z Bub

Her parent's bedroom, I assume, from the smell of stale perfume. A charge, a socket surging. Thin and bruised from play in those high summer days, with her sister's boyfriend's praise. She jumped to try and pin me down. And the bed collapsed. Then we ran.

<~> 23-Dec-02/8:02 AM
like it




Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001