My hands feel like dead weight anchors.
Listlessly hanging there
on the ends of my arms.
While they long bitterly
for the width of your waist.

There is no clean white surface
to lay this truth over.
It merely is, through its dirty face,
the meager honesty
that is my love.

Published by B

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. I refer to my favorite person as TMW5T Why? because if he had 6 I'd call him TMW6T, duh!!

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