In Forbearance
Where was I
when repo men invaded,
possessed,
boxed me up within his cool heart
fragrant in its distaste of warmer climates?
You know,
climates governed by love.
(Daydreaming of knights, that's where.)
Now I have only so much patience remaining
for this slapstick brain-
a nasty reminder, the heckler of my heart,
what spews sensibility
when I simply yearn to err.
And I scarcely have time to mourn
his devil's smile
leaving southward in moving vans
transporting my pieces
(all the valid ones)
with him
as I sit numbed,
next to climbing ivy poisoned by my disbelief,
broken
unpaid for.
Copyright © Melissa Schwartz | Year Posted 2005
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