You
say
my eggs
are fried? That's
exactly how my
husband likes them on the kitchen
counter before work:
slippery,
licked, dead
and
gone.
You
say
my eggs
are fried? That's
exactly how my
husband likes them on the kitchen
counter before work:
slippery,
licked, dead
and
gone.
National Poetry Writing Month
Keeping the world immersed in stanza.
About fantastical places and other stuff
"The silence of the night awakens my soul"
Poems, Writing Prompts, Interviews, Resources for Writers, Books, Poetry Reviews and more...
Saralyn Caine Poetry 