Poems by FTS Miles

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  • Boing (3)

    It's the strangest thing…
    I read the Shrub's...

  • Dark tones, brooding in submission,
    Clarity of touch, staccato caresses...

  • Miso (3)

    I sip of this miso with intention,
    slowly as to encourage...

  • I slip into the soulful recline of
    black leather comfort...

  • Betrayed by nurturing sea,
    Betrayed by fiery verdance...

  • Feast (2)

    I feast upon you not for
    perfect countenance...

  • Whether diagnosed dim by glance into eye,
    Revealed by an ignorant anachronistic crack...

  • Would it confuse you if I explained
    that it’s but a matter of sense that...

  • Wet (1)

    Mine are layered in wet…
    sticky torrid moist from the...

  • These mists vivisect reality,
    constrain its intention...

  • A glimmer of eye is understandable presence;
    Instead feral fire has emboldened your essence...

  • [Inspired upon reading Christopher Moore's...
    I ponder these single words with paragraph...