Trying
to get my thoughts straight
Everything
coming out hurried
Panic
seizes me around the throat
You’ve
always been the perfect tonic
A
femme fatale who doesn’t know her own strength
Your
allure bombards me like melting confetti
Wish
to hang out with you in a bathroom stall
Or
an unused confessional in a gothic church
Watch
you sleep like the Glitter-Witch you are
Trying
to get my head on straight
Anxiety
sits atop my chest like an M-4 Sherman Tank
I’m
astounded by your grace and machine gun parlance
Keeps
me coming back for more
A
psychedelic soda shop zeroing in on only good trips
I
will try to not wake up screaming
Charles Cicirella
1/24/18
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