Your lips address my curves
With gratuitous familiarity,
Love has many manifestations
But this is not one of them.
Whatever excuse I apply
To our clarification falters.
We are and there is nothing
To be said for loneliness
That we cannot all attest.
You have an affinity
For parallels
For scarecrows writhing
In an unploughed field
For suffering as only fear
Can render it.
I prefer to be the victim
Unsteady, fragile, remiss.
Excess wears a jagged smile
A heart tart as an unripened currant
I desticate in the abdication of resolve
A padlock holds keyless
Around my offensive core.
I hunger for that which fades
For the death of stars,
For the ghastly lamp
For a pen that doesn’t smear
Whatever fluid chances
Upon its outcroppings of ink.
If not my pretenses
Then of what can I speak?
If only I could ditch you
Face down in our perversity
That I should never revisit
This shame, this prison, this bed
With its guttural, virulent musk.
*
Submission for
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/01/12/wordle-prompt-43-12-january-2015/
mindlovemisery 