If wishes were fishes.


Wheeling in circles.
My hands fret beside me
Bill collectors, like clattering  insects,
in my ears.

That almost low that reminds me
that I am blessed, despite my weary,
with so many things completing,
though right now my heart would cry.

Make a perfect omelet
by breaking a few eggs,
and remember,
tomorrow comes.

I rest my head on my keyboard
only momentarily conscious
of my hearts wishes.
If wishes were fishes.

Published by Bexley Benton. (Pen name)

I am B (call me BB and I will gut you) I like daisies, books, and men who understand the wisdom of Kermit the Frog.

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