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Tag Archives: loves me loves me not
she boasts a mane, after all, the right to call sun to center. white -petalled promises with up -roarious squalls of lovesme, lovesmenot. we’ve got her in our fists, given her too much power. spent hours hoping over flowered phrase, … Continue reading
.. This poem has fallen in and out of love with her -selves long before this sixth line. She’s daisy-chain tired and yet tried and true. She’s blue. And a particular shade of gray. She really really ……………….(really) wants to … Continue reading
.. He loves me, ……loves me not, loves ……….me, not. Petaled rain -drops settle the score, and she the storm at center. .. In November, we poem.
my blood approves and kisses are a better fate than wisdom lady i swear by all flowers. – E.E. Cummings .. She’s fussing about out there in the garden again, cussing out the flowers. Loves me, loves -me-nots, forget-me-dids. Shattered … Continue reading
.. after, she rips the heads off of each and every one of them, with their little white ……..( l i e s ) petals; opts instead for dandelion’s breeze-blown r o a r. .. … Continue reading