I dance this path
Of fire with you
Blackened
By the failings
Of an incurable youth
*
Though the heart
Is pliant
My bones do not
Forgive trespass
An unmade bed
Would betray
My animal instincts
So we lie
Captive in the rage
Of a muzzled spine
*
From your sharpened tongue
I gather defect
These excuses
Like bread crumbs
Drive me back
To this house
Of dangerous angles
–
This one is 5 years old and from the catacombs of my blog. I am preparing poems for submission to The Newyorker at the moment =)
mindlovemisery 