Poems from lilliankatykate
Lipstick stains on a collar,Wine stains on her Sunday best,They teach it’s the blood of her LordSo she counts herself as blessed.Her cherry...
Blood red lips kiss the mouths of stained glass bottles.
Bottoms up, seal it shut with a cobblestone cork.
It’s almost religious; it’s...
You hear the old house settle,the mouse squeak in harmonywith the kettle on the stovejust beginning its humming.You hear the thrumming of...