Wednesday 11/15/2006 12:20:00 AM

Pale camouflage he chose. In stubborn fits of loyalty. While she watched. Swollen with the choice.

Frail lies. She wore. The sequin dresses her thighs would scream. As she strutted through their lives in echoes. Whatever was real about her only trying to remember.

Loose denim not befriending love's requests. The cacophony of verse festering. Maggots on dead files. Labeling the corpse. In phases. In the absence of ample lies. Better friends.

The ash in the corner too close to knowing. The rainbow spent. On all those colors that never come true.

| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2021. All Rights Reserved.