Loch Dread

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Loch Dread

I can't believe it's here again, I never expected this.
It's coming back on me times ten with a sultry, ambiguous kiss.
Haunting my nights with vivid dreams of lochs and puddles and ponds,
with glass shorelines, no sense of time, and one too many dawns.
At first it was a want, now it's become a need
malign and dark and dominant, and I just let it feed.
It's growth is exponential now, I've lost all control.
Now the only care I have is finding my next bowl.

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Poetry is what is lost in translation.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

recondoc70’s Poems (6)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Release 1
Up for Days 2
Loch Dread 0
Sally Devine 1
Compromize 0
Grey 2

recondoc70’s Friends (2)