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A Gentle Touch

bother dust a fortune lost
bright orange in the falling dusk
a dawn away from losing out
we frequently our cereal

nothing ventured since the loss
bright yellow in our corneas
our rainbow shattered missing out
we frequently our cereal

toasted jam a molded front
despair not seeking from the fold
a night away from filling up
we frequently our cereal

less frequency our radio sleep
a dream away from cardio
bright apple in the cherry slope
we bother dust our fortunes

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Posted on March 29, 2018 by Josh. This entry was posted in poetry. Bookmark the permalink.
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