Saturday, November 30, 2013


All foam and fizz
It rushes up
Oceans ejaculate
Of pollution

Its stickiness
Creeps between my toes
Cold left overs, like
Remnants of a random’s kiss

Scudding from
Discontented wind
Froth blown then

No Aphrodite arises
Created from a cruel cut
Just the dirty mark
Where foam had been

We like to think of
Love’s beauty, yet in the end
Perhaps all we have left
Is the dirty mark

Where love has been

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