ST


Smutty Emily Poetry #1



He trampled my purple blade
Fumbling to breathe on its growing measure.
Eden saw this crucifix
In its sunny garden,
But dew of the soul
Dropped not;
Frosty liquor fumbled in secret.

Sing! Sing the searing pain of this
Buzzing bashful banquet!
My fire opens for your daisy
this secret day.

Rip me, hurry.
Fit my swimming eye in your
Divine kingdom of luxury.
Its fame fears the morning sun.
I fit, pushing, in your lean garden. 1