Promptly

Catching The Fork By The Prongs

(PPC6 Prompt 8)

To the Rain Shadow of the Olympics I have come
Places where there is never a fear
Remembering roads that took us away from
Shallow days of desperate breaths
To our rhythmic boy you called "son-of-the-drum"
Bass beat songs pass the fog covered peaks
I hear the turbulent softness in your hum
Your laughter bliss fits leaving a tear
Antique hearts and lover's kisses hotly numb




Magic 9 Form
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9 Lines