With their heads bowed low,
Their coquettish nature
Polishing their apples with polite phrasings
Of melancholic anguish
In attempt to triumph in a race to their heart,
Completely inebriated without having touched a drop-
Eyes sheepish from all this folly,
Causing their thoughts to resemble conscious tinnitus,
Until they’re nothing but the infatuation
That sings their praises.
Laws of Attraction
Keeping them apart
Unable to look at one another other
Until their back’s turned.
Anthony Ward tends to fidget with his thoughts in the hope of laying them to rest. He has managed to lay them in a number of literary magazines including The Faircloth Review, The Pygmy Giant, Jellyfish Whispers, Turbulence, Underground, The Bohemyth, Torrid Literature Journal and Crack the Spine, amongst others.
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