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Wastrel
By cadymae
I still taste the dregs of your innocence at the edge of my lips
You, who couldn't wait to outgrow it
met me, who never had it
I sipped til you were empty
then filled you with me
You perch at the bus stop now
making old men wince
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Copyright 2015 cadymae
Published on Wednesday, April 8, 2015.
Filed under:
"Poetry"
Author's Note:
catch-n-releaseComments on "Wastrel"
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On Wednesday, January 25, 2017, carlosjackal
(3016)
wrote:
Witty, biting and loaded with intelligence. A sharp pen, you wield.
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