Photo Challenge #68 “Pause” and Wordle #153



The sting of foreign lips

A blunt tongue

Grinding, inevitable

The addition of you,

A love without course

Without warning.

A broken heart

Does not waste

The sweet quartet,

The steady rival

A job as natural

As breathing.

Everyday I watch you

Percolating, from filter to gut

Thick in overture

I choke on your abrasions

The regretful kindlings

Of a subsequent pause.

The clench of your cloaca

A responsive echo

I gather eggs by the plenty

The cumbersome dilation

The unspoilt farce

An inhalation to forget.