My Dearest
In my darkest hours,
When the end seems near,
And someone utters your name;
I am raised back up
So that I may bask in your godly light
And be consumed by your intoxicating glory
Until I am nearly drunk from pleasure
And full of that extra guac,
My dearest Chipotle
👁 3💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.