Tuesday, April 09, 2019

Nestled in the crane of your neck. (For Kat)


I write
I wrong
None of it makes any difference anyhow

Simple syrup
High fructose crack
Lost in the pavement of her vaudeville love

Want to make love to her when we’re both asleep
My best lines come when consciousness is slapped down hard
What I desire and what I’ve settled for are cosmos apart

I am wrong
I am right
None of it makes any difference now

Charles Cicirella

No comments: