I fled to sink into
satin sheets, threadbare and torn
wanting not, needing naught
as pennies were thrown at my head
I turned away
my other cheek forlorn
falling gracelessly
into cesspools of decadence
mired up to my thighs
caring not
but for sleepless eternities
and equal immortal tasks
fixated by the censure in your eyes
I almost ceased to be
it was fine days
as you watched behind
those rose colored glasses
seething with self -righteousness
indulging yourself in resignation
going about daily tasks and easy slumber
pristine on your self-exalted pedestal
calling out halleujah's
as I waited far below
along with your discarded bones
a road littered with abandonment and neglect

I can’t think of a thing not to say

the harsh sounds

rip out my throat. ( hoarse gallop)

hazel irises with rusty Saturn rings

surround the pupils

to the unobservant

an eye. ( chameleon guise)

Hearing is silence

in listening

watching the body move. ( sub~language)

Eating words

that fly like missiles

into heart meat. (die, die, my darling)

Softly step

in and among

the lives of all of us. ( fingers and thumbs)

Do not speak  afterwards

of the technicalities  

in sky high memories. (the horror)

The water flows

crisp, clean, clear

from the tap. ( plumb the depths)

Candles are lit

on restaurant tables

for romantic ambiance. ( emergency)

Looking straight ahead

out the windshield

maintaining equilibrium. (sickly sweet)

The weather vane

spins about

when the wind blows. (history)