Carys Three

I'm not your drip, within a big sea, the yellow light hid, what about your lover, with all her surly needs, has she got a number, that you need to live, alongside your creed, who do you mint, on that edge of wonder, that pitiless belief, a high heeled flounder, stones and pieces of drift, know not to flee, what's in your gift, enslave or encumber, a lifetime of greed, instead of sweet slumber, would you leave me in sin, at life's end in weeds, spinning more fibs, that none of us need.