Dream #7,897,543

A shattered statue

Once stood on the floor

An Adonis Madonna

Named after a whore.

Well, still she spoke

Good English

Her breath had the scent of night

And poems she loved to say

Oh my God

I see delight

Along with many new ways

To remember my minds phantom

Of her laid out on the floor

Teaching me language

In a primitive wet style

Flash…the scenes of sex

That causes me to smile

Into a blissful state

For reasons, I’ll be coming late

And the noise will reek my ears

Into believing

I‘m as walked on as a rug

What? Is it here?

Yes, it has crept on me like a bug

And that last word

I saw she said

Is pushed on back inside my head,

As all the light that comes in streams

Drowns out her face

There in my dreams.

#poetry #june #archive

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