Glass

a poem by Arthur Jackson V

Glass likes shatter 

Simple

Apple likes bite

Crisp

My phone likes your number

Taps become

Clicks become

Lips become 

Hips become

Sips 

From your pelvis 

My hands become a bowl

I scoop from your body 

I learn the meaning of taste

How permeate you 

Me              Do storm clouds soak up the ocean

Before rain?

Heavy with a shadow

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