Picking Up The Pieces

I'd been back door bumming

For your love

Like a hyper, quivering beast...

With contention

I returned to the habits that secreted

Syncopation and peace

Worth having...

In a hopeless longing to descend;

Like the ragged remains of a drifter's husk

That had been repeatedly violated,

And discarded in an rush,

I took my leave in vain...

What seems fictional supersedes the actual

Intestinal tensions...

Coming in and out like some unmentioned disguised

Condition of distaste...

My stomach yearns a frequent pumping...

I chase

The lump inside your throat

Like tin cans

Down an artery of roads

To seize a frozen instant kiss...

What once was glanced in

Love

By cunning eyes remains

So cruelly dismissed and roped off...

Sentenced to a dismal rain ...

A sanctuary for loose soul...

Over the side-lines

Of what's tame...

We crooned and crashed upon

Wet bridges...

Like windswept drift wood;

The wind had tossed away

Our tinkered placement...

7/31/23

Bunny Villaire