Sweet/Sour

In a found place, a sheltered place, a jealous place, I eat my heart. 
It tastes like fresh strawberries and rotten secrets. 

You, open ground, open sky, cloistered in my stomach, 
sit still until I call our name, until our thoughts are as sweet/sour as wine. 
 

Yellow Sweater

WA

YWP Alumni Advisor

More by Yellow Sweater