alfie lee writing



seeds in, an anecdote,
beds between lap of tongue
and lips, a sac of salves,
tissue born, secreting
serous as valves turn on.

you are worn, a round, a ring,
bleb in time being,
with wink and wile, you
bright thing,
loosing delight within.


home           new           poems           stories           index           about           stuff           speak           share on facebook

for art by alfie go to
for music by alfie go to
for graphic designs by alfie go to

all writing, artwork & music on this site
copyright of alfie lee
& may not be reproduced in any form without express consent

Powered by Blogger