Selfishness, a Reprise
Sensory hiss, sensual miss.
A compass made of doodles,
two mugs full of writing implements (most
run dry from scribblings)
four pages of notes
in three different colors: scrivening
the same fourteen lines
in a sonnet that just cannot come through
a vicious, melancholy static.
Something about pivoting around
and then complaining as neatly as possible.
A compass made of doodles,
two mugs full of writing implements (most
run dry from scribblings)
four pages of notes
in three different colors: scrivening
the same fourteen lines
in a sonnet that just cannot come through
a vicious, melancholy static.
Something about pivoting around
and then complaining as neatly as possible.