Sunlight makes the dock
a paved street of paradise,
fool’s gold,
pyrite inlet.
I cannot look away
from the false promises
of the morning bay.
Peach slice orb
sprinkles more cinnamon
on the sizzling sea.
Let my doughy limbs
soak the illusions up,
sunrise brunch.
And when the star has steeped,
pour me another cup.
© 2023 | K. Hartless





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