Tuesday 4/09/2024 11:35:00 PM

her plastic pennies scoff at the well. too raw to pretend. simple auditors in the fallacy of why. 

her skin a dwindling currency. a hobbled predator in a concentric hunt. 

a feast of incredulous saboteurs. set their traps. 

only touch knows. or ever has.

how sharp gravity's teeth are.

as the edge opens its jaws. 

his stilted maps chafe against the truth. bound to creases sold too soon. 

time taps on the glass. burrowing much too deeply into a murky vein. 

smeared lipstick on the tender cheeks of why. 

curious fingers keep count. strangers sharing a collapsing bridge.

we wear the distance. discarded flesh leaves behind its answers.

long after we've forgotten the questions asked. 

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