STAR**** **OOP**S: Surreal Space Poetry – Page 48

surreal space poetry

I slapped him
Dripping hot
Shivering cold
Breathing hard.

Break, and

It was over

He didn’t know
From the first.

All that nonsense
Miserable, pale,
and plain.

Author: Jonathon

Would rather be out swimming, running, or camping. Works in state government. Spent a youth reading genre-fiction; today, he is making up for it by reading large quantities of non-fiction literature. The fact that truth, in every way, is more fascinating than fiction still tickles him.

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