Halfway through yesterday are the words I forgot,
To stash inside your closet.

Lost hallelujahs for your too charming smile,
Halt, just shy of, "In a minute!"

You would like those thoughts -
Those full, careless thoughts -
Forever slipping into,
Politeness.

The too-telling giggles,
Hidden in slick eyes,
And smuggled in,
Feigned aloofness.

Meet me at your mind's found corner,
In its lipstick and hot-combed hair.

We'll share some words,
That we've never heard,

That will sneak us off to whenever.

I never cried at your misplaced words
Though, I felt them,
So carefully,
Gnawing
At
My spirit.

My heart only cried wet, dragging words
That loved hard
And too quickly
After
Your wayward self.

Filthy words spilled from your blackened lips,
Telling of your innards.

But, I couldn't let go
That somewhat glow
I kept glimpsing
Before you shut down.

In the moon's attempt at a soothing beck
Is tendence to insatiable hunger,
Pretending, between breaths, I couldn't hear
My own growlings clawing in your thunder.

Teary eyes and hopeful eyes stare down
Frozen and thoughtless, cold eyes,

Until I glance away
With nothing to say,
Ignoring the impending,
Yearning.

I thought sirens were voluptuous women,
Who sat upon rocks and sang to men,
Who couldn’t think past,
The tips of their *****.

I was sure they had the longest hair,
I had ever seen,
That swore to you,
It had met with eternity.

Through rose-scented ears,
And rose-budded drapes,
I had heard of their full, soft *******,

That breathed airily beneath,
The green beads of the sea,
Speaking, softly, of impending agendas.

"

But, I found out yesterday,
Their hands are great,
Yielding rough spears,
Rather than white sarongs.

They’re not sitting at all -
They actually stand tall,
Looming over you,
With ***** of their own.

Babies are a nuisance.

They require I spend extra time,
Bottling my honesty,
To feed them slowly,
With excessive precaution.

Attention must be paid,
To dribbles on chins,
I must clean up,
When they simply,
Can't keep,

From spitting out bits,
Of it that won't fit,
In their mouths,
So underdeveloped.

My mama’s shoes,
Fit my feet too snug, now,
For me to look cute, still, slippin’ them on.
I’ve no need of her lipstick, nor her raspberry rouge,
To make my face look, more, like hers does.

I’m a big, daddy’s girl, who has known the world,
But, not quite enough to really fit in.

--

I still heart,
Sunshine and rosies,
And, playin’ with mah toesies -
Eatin’ froot loops and pokin’ at roly poly’s,
Makin’ colourful cupcakes, covered in sweet gummies,
To eat inside forts filled with last winter’s lights,

Too,

Eatin’ Caramel Delights, sneakily,
Stolen, in spite - of the weight,
I was fightin’ so easily.

--

Perhaps,

When the adults are all done - playin’ house, for fun,
I’ll bring my cookies from the fort, to the table.
We’ll have coffee and speak of the stats,
For the week and laugh about,
Hart's becoming unstable.

And, I shall wear loafers,
That pinch at my,
Toesies that fidget,
Crazily,
Beneath my seat.

I'm not afraid of the galganaut,
Peering out from his overgrown huddle,
Inside his hole in the brook,
That I once mistook,
For the water faeries',
Hide-n-seek cove.


I won't fall for his,
***** ol' tricks,
And bluffs -
That slick beast,
In his feast, on those,
Deserving, the least -

The slow and naive,
Who believe what they see,
But, refuse to see,
What's there.


That cove has eyes,
If you'd just look inside!
Garish and eating,
Your soul,

Before its looks,
Reel you in,
With its hooks,
Of tin,
That you cradle,
Simply, 'cause
You can.


A victim, no more,
To the galganaut,
And his tendencies,
Toward swift,
Deception.


For, what?
I don't know,
But, to me,
He's no more.


I have whited him from,
My reality.

On some day I'd forgotten,
Three winters ago,
I stumbled across,
Room 8.
Courtiers from within,
Beckoned with questionable smiles,
That stabbed at,
Intently,
Curiosity.

Just beyond,
The garnished door,
Lay carpet so lush,
It seemed to,
Glisten,
With its own beads of sweat,
That met,

The never coming ends,
Of rambunctious, silk drapery,
That dripped -
That dripped -
From the ceilings in reds,
So red they wrestled with passion.

And a peek beyond,
I couldn't keep my glimpse,
From pooling onto the,
Glasses,
That quivered.

Panes that gave way,
To silent,
Slain spirits,

Rocking back,
And then forth -

Spirits who had,
Lost,
Their ***** words,
To emotion.