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Venus & the Damask
There were haunting
vines that were cut,
As Cicero’s broken
reach lingers within,
The lurid Morning glory
chokes the Damask;
I’ll take no regrets through
morrow's hint of stillness;
for was I that planted it,
Fragrant, the Venus stands,
alone on the desk, and Pitiless.
vines that were cut,
As Cicero’s broken
reach lingers within,
The lurid Morning glory
chokes the Damask;
I’ll take no regrets through
morrow's hint of stillness;
for was I that planted it,
Fragrant, the Venus stands,
alone on the desk, and Pitiless.
Published 29th Jun 2014
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29th Jun 2014 11:06am
29th Jun 2014 7:45pm
29th Jun 2014 8:09pm
