I Cannot Wait In Quicksand
Dear lover you don't know yourself,
yet I'm blinded with awe
and we come together,
but you let me tumble
to other rocks
that surface the shore.
Dear love you said so yourself,
but perhaps it was merely
observation.
Dear friend who tells tales to tare the tale he tells,
because my will tethers easily
and I sway so wholly,
that another already holds my pen
by the end of this poem.
I cannot wait in quicksand,
my legs wont wade merrily.
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