Pages

Sunday, August 4, 2013

More: Single [Poem]



Facebook
psychoanalysis

buzzes
at a quarter
past four

while
tiny gossip
spreads like
butter

on toasted
whole grain
wheat.

Humor
rises in her eyes
of hazel fire.

"Single” goes to,
“It’s complicated.”

Not really.
She’s still
“Single.”


I “like” it anyway.

No comments:

Post a Comment