Answers
His schemes for self-improvement bought
Permission to be still at night.
To cross an item off his list
Was happiness.
She reached each day into her throat
And pulled from it a sequinned cloak
She wore to dazzle Death with trite
Complexities.
So neither had an answer fit
To play their private god and yet
Sufficed to keep them busy whilst,
Love did its work.
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/7tb95v/the_tyrant/dtblopm/
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/7tcfrx/sponge_and_soap/dtbkvrd/
Posted Jan 27, 2018, 3:19 PM UTC
65