Wordle #190 “Sty”

190

Words by Brenda Warren

Your cape curls at the edges,

Whipping froth from a lingering haze.

I fillet you from grin to scrotum,

Exchanging one cave for another.

Our symmetry is incompatible

I retract my claws, the strain of blood

Traipsing over my favorite blouse.

If only a sculptor then perhaps

My love wouldn’t be so deranged.

*

The chains sustaining my ancestry

Dig in another quarter inch

Cutting off all access routes.

The circus is still in progress

Inflamed clowns feign

Behind a barbwire sty.

We are the people our wounds dictate

And nothing offends more than comparison.

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3 responses to “Wordle #190 “Sty”

  1. Interesting use of the words – with imagery – well – “damaging” in some way – provocative thoughts – and the closing lines: “We are the people our wounds dictate / And nothing offends more than comparison. ” throws one powerful punch. What a blatant truth this idea.

    Great job Yves. 🙂

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