my subconscious
intoxicated, trapped
in a late-night, corner booth
allowed, inserted
between you and an
other of indistinct face
(have I been
so easily replaced)
you are an ancient,
like the ripped vinyl
jagged and sticky
the naked, barest bits
suffer as my
awkward self escapes
all the reluctant agony
cries me to wake;I do battle with
tangled, weeping sheets
No comments:
Post a Comment