When Triteness Yawns…
Tooth-Hurtyish,
twinkling casually on
the blackened ovaries:
bleck and wite unite
and fight in equaliser dreams;
might have beens, should have beens,
mass in your strangulated,
nutritionless mind,
in your dreams like somewhere safe,
nuzzling down,
cuddling up in green mossy pot,
snug as a bug in a rug.
Grimbeau 