One Word
Littered thoughts lay
crumpled on the floor,
lips bear the imprint
of a fingernail.
A single word
dances at the end
of my fingertips,
I scratch paper
into confetti.
The first stanza
dares me to
give it autarky,
declare its truth
all its faults
in every sentence.
This untold idiom
would usher in
the torn diaries
of an undisclosed
suffering mind.
So I clean my floor
clench my hands
and close this
subject forever.
---
There is always a
"but"
isn't there.
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