Clone,
caught hold of your flood lung,
harbour your ‘someone’,
prevent me.
Shown,
you swoon in your lace run,
brooding, a quilt tongue,
pining me.
Calm,
clot, cold, and bleed
Bone,
pull over your midriff,
labour your inches,
widow me.
Hone,
all crimson and hinges,
tarot and itches,
corner me.
Faux
shot, sold and bleed
caught hold of your flood lung,
harbour your ‘someone’,
prevent me.
Shown,
you swoon in your lace run,
brooding, a quilt tongue,
pining me.
Calm,
clot, cold, and bleed
Bone,
pull over your midriff,
labour your inches,
widow me.
Hone,
all crimson and hinges,
tarot and itches,
corner me.
Faux
shot, sold and bleed
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