With twisted mouth and crinkled nose
prepared for time worn stale.
I should jump right in I suppose.
deep breath, okay, inhale.

Biting down so carefully,
on the dated heart.
Which reads almost subliminally,
“Will you be mine?” “Sweetheart”

Grinding sweetness into dust,
pasty glue between my teeth.
Cupid, playing dentist, must
struggle to remove my heart’s tight sheath.

A taste unexpected but well-known too,
like the powder coating my cheeks.
I’ll be picking all the pieces left of you,
out of my teeth for weeks.

~ MD Marcus, Author

~ MD Marcus, Author


  1. Lil' Miss Gossip says:

    Really interesting poem. It makes you think about a Valentine’s Day past. I wonder what went wrong?

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