Things That The Gods Don’t Want

I notice things that the Gods don’t

want me to and for that I am embarrassed. 

You have a wrinkle under your

eye that reaches inside to your brain

and coils down your nervous system

to your cherry painted toenails.

 

You are sensitive and walk with a pain

as old as hands and bent as an aborted fetus.

Breathe my lavender kiss, my lupine nectar

The monarchs in your eyes are sunbathing

Your wrist are budding peonies blossoms

but that damn wrinkle tells of heartache and death.

Stand still and I’ll cut it off, my little sister.  

Author: annieepoetry

I am poet. I am woman. I write with my thumbs. Read my poems. Tell me what You think. You may find the love poem you always thought someone wrote for you. Or the one you meant to write But Becareful lovers tell zingers and often break hearts Milky Way Earth U.S.A Madison WI

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