i will write a song. Now. Here.
i will write of the static air
that expands between us.
Of the barbed wires, traps,
unintended smirks, intended silences,
of the things ( i could never speak to you)
i swallowed down without a sound like bitter medicine
(that done me no good. The muddy intentions
only accumulated in my stomach.)
(And refused to materialize.)

i will write a song and riddle it with riddles
Cover up my weaknesses with covert giggles
Shut tight my eyes and wait for the sound
Your declaration! The thud of the guillotine
That drives this to a clean cut end
( i could never speak to you)