wordweeds

Our bed, a shallow tin—
I am the turning key.
Our blanket is the lid.
You are the cold sardine.
Come morning, snuggle in.

2017

This entry was posted on Saturday, October 14th, 2017 at 11:23 am and is filed under 2017. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.