My love for you is a rose almond. Luscious and creamier than milk, itself.
Sliding into sleep, I search for you. Am I deluded? Do you feel the same?
A luscious rose almond. I search for love that is creamier than milk, itself.
Sleep, itself is deluded. Do you feel I am sliding? The same? And into you?
Do you feel sleep is a search for you, itself? And love a rose almond?
Am I sliding into the same? Luscious and creamier than milk, do you
Sliding as a rose almond into luscious milk, am I creamier than love, itself?
I am deluded. And I search for you. My love, do you feel the same? Sleep.
My love is sliding into sleep. I search for rose almonds and creamier milk.
I am the same. Love, itself is deluded. Luscious than you? You feel?
Deluded, I am sliding into rose almond sleep. And you feel the same.
You search for love, luscious and creamier than milk, itself. My love.
Photo credits: Pinterest
Kim invites us to write inspired by Wendy Cope’s poem “The Uncertainty of the Poet.”
Posted for Weekend Mini-Challenge: The Uncertainty of the Poet @ Real Toads
Posted on Pantry of Poetry and Prose @