Cupid’s resting/ in the Fennel

Cupid’s resting

in the Fennel
his little wings

fold round him

he knows
I eat

the Fennel
flowers

I call
them

my lollies

yellow
anise

I need
a jab

of his arrow

my hearts
shaking

in a swoon

I need a fix

I need it
now

he has me

on his oak

 

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This entry was posted in 2017, literature, poem, poems, poetry, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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