Wine-fined

Mike Bell/ February 27, 2016/ www.mikebellpoems.com/ 0 comments

I sit still,
tight-supped:
Some-come-thoughts,
double-cupped:

Palm-charmed by
insights’ hands,
whistled-to,
out-of-beat bands;

asked of you:
Be my crime?
Bedstead in,
undressed-rhyme:

Table-sat,
hid-thighs touched,
Fingers-crossed,
is that enough?

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