102 degrees does not rival what your eyes convey Trickle of sweat Parched mouth Labored breathing One more thing will sinch my demise “Baby…I miss that mouth.” I’m a puddle.

I want to thank every single person who has come to my Poetry and have read and left comments. Believe it or not, I am still trying to figure out how to navigate here, so it’s not that I...

Black, white – White, black How many times the rhymes return to: No going backAnd now We have a uniform of nothingness to place upon the form To go out into the storm Like sheep amidst the slaughter. SonDaughter. Sun Moon. Follower Occulted into The cult. Not I: NWP til I Die***Cipher Poems ***