I surrender, yes,
tree sap hair to his black beard —
my same slow loris
venomous mammal, elbows
at the ready: lick and spit.
I surrender, yes,
tree sap hair to his black beard —
my same slow loris
venomous mammal, elbows
at the ready: lick and spit.
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 