Saturday, 7 December 2013

My first poem

I

After seeing crunchy ceilings,
Babies blister in the sun.
Dust is lying on her lashes:
melting plastic, thick as juice,
is falling down

II

Fake polished nails bite feet and fingers,
glitter's hanging from her tears:
rainbow fishes bath in bathtubs.
Lipstick red and pink instead-
paint her pale.

III

There's a message out of honey,
I can't read it, but it does taste sweet.

No comments:

Post a Comment