Sunday 8/27/2023 11:34:00 PM

 time sharpened its knives. counting all the spoiled fruit we'd pierced, but never eaten.

the ugly found us. sour dolls. jagged fractions of a lingering deficit. 

we stepped into the machine. refugees of a waning resolve. our purple lips still ablaze with the exquisite taste of surrender.

our breath chewed on the walls. as our beautiful cages quietly locked.  

the body. all bullets and strangers. in a pantomime of choices. the dirty math of who we were. excruciatingly accurate. 

the subtle treasons that make us real. 

trust whispers. betrayal shouts. 

we let the wolf inside.

but it still blew our house down. 


| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2024. All Rights Reserved.