innocent devotion clings to lint
sticks in between
cracks in the floor boards
I pick, carefully put
disgraceful devastation into my pocket
staining the wood over and over
working myself out of the ambush
of such a long time ago
finding that slippery,
surreptitious love
is as good for you as fast food
running running
away goes my mind
you will never know how ugly is unlearned,
your sharp, secretive undercover skills
made me want to crawl on the ground
because dirty felt good, felt even,
your stealthy, back-door, dangerous smiles
still live in my head and now
I'm wishing I could grow
God-damned wings.
because I'd meet you on a private wire,
sing my sad love song, sweet, out of key,
watch your disappointed face glower
at respite tears that stain,
place into your warm palm
all that I have of you from my pocket
Word of the Day Series
"meet you on a private wire"
ReplyDeletevery good
:) TY
ReplyDelete