This is not an exit
That what Brett Ellis said
In restaurant of conspirators
As the victims freely bled
The blood just keeps on pumping
Though they were slain
Months and years ago
For reasons half forgotten
Pushed down so far below
In the back alley
Or on Wall Street
The disconnection
Is the same
To remove what is not desirable
And make them take the blame.

we’d mangle some hearts
and butter the rest
we’d sneak into bars
just for the jest
all these woven cards
seem to rest
when we wore
buddy holly amidst—
all the fest.

heavenly arms of yours
your serine beauty
only palpable to the overlords
let me  in your introspective bubble
let me lie on your lap
let me crush the boundaries
that bind us forever apart
my despair your bliss for ignorance
meet you in another timeline
one which does me justice

A knot work spell is an easy way
To breathe magic into macrame.
An anchor knot for an aid
so I don’t drop my braid.

I try to tie well,
for each knot is a spell
I don’t want to unravel.

Carefully binding
to seal in my intentions.

A mantra, repeated with each loop.

I am loved,
I am loved,
I am loved.

If the rain could weave your touch into mine,
I'd let it drench me, time after time.
Perhaps in a place where clocks don't turn,
You’d find me waiting, a love unlearned.