Just Another Case of the Tail Waggin the Horse
It's the residue from the gunshot that you aimed right for my heart. See it ricocheted, backfired, meaning another false start…
A reissue of rhetoric accost the poet's you adore, so if acceptance is temperance then uneasiness no more?...
Do you remember that time we rode across your kitchen floor, clinging to a chloroformed kleptomanic repose, yet never in danger of being fully exposed, so we dined all night on a third and fourth course....just another case of the tail wagging the horse!...
When I held you in my arms I always felt you needed more...
See, we were allinged by chance, prepackaged romance, rinse repetitive repeat, another day, another week, who the f**k is winning in this game of hide and reep?...
I'll sow the seeds and water your fledgling soul, never once asking a suture for my own sterile self control…An awareness of sorts that our haves creates holes…
Acceptance is temperance then uneasiness no more, still when I held you in my arms, I could never see past my own sores…
Copyright © Ian Black | Year Posted 2023
|