Faucet Drip



   there breathe lies that bruise chap lips,


   band of white wed finger’s voice,


   lover’s eyes remind me I’m,

a second choice.



   paint rust stain ‘low faucet drip,


   plumbers paid for greedy choice,


   I must leak until my death,

a vacant voice.


16 thoughts on “Faucet Drip

  1. ugh man…a second choice is hard enough…the imagery in the second bit of the faucet and its relation to you as well…leaking out as a vacant voice…nice and evocative man…

  2. That’s a very powerful poem. The end is both very effective… and terrible: “I must leak until my death”, what a frightening omen… Good writing, I like the symmetry of so/and/but’s.

  3. The lack of length by no means belittles the power of this piece. A sad play on the prompt today…I know all too well what being played like a second fiddle feels like 😦 This one hit!

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