You promised
Ocean rain –
do it clean,
police me.
A friend I call Desire
reads his words out loud:
“Oh, I like the way
you put me in the big house!
Your burning lips
on my finger tips..
Reciprocate:
this means nothing to me.
I’ve put my urge in the ice-box.”
If time is my vessel
(set the sail)
then learning to love,
is a change of skin.
Estuary,
won’t you take me?
Wasted whispers, faded secrets.
but no one could see the end.
Maja S. Todorovic
Business in Rhyme 