Pure

Oh, if I could write pure poetry
Distilled seven times
So it burned on your tongue
And warmed in the pit of your stomach
And sent fire racing to your fingertips and toes
So perfectly refined it had no aftertaste
Nothing but the memory of a flavor
So exquisite
That you had to taste it again

Advertisements

One thought on “Pure

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s