the kiss upon the neck that turns

the nerves inside the body out –

the summertime that burns the skin

and leaves the sweating soul in doubt


for there is folly where there’s love,

and where there’s love, there’s oft remorse –

and mem’ries don’t a pillow make

and rivers fester when you dam

the source

2 thoughts on “response

  1. I think but am not sure sounds familiar that this is a re-read form for me. In any case, of the same poem I think; in any case … how good this poem is thank you so much for the share. Perfectly.

    Liked by 1 person

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