A crease in the socket of emotion
proposed a silent watery rhyme,
swam under the surface of your
thoughts, so as not to disturb
patterns forming, digits and dots
tapping at your side in vain edits

Caught, locked in tights cells of you,
I wound up the cotton reel, mending
the holes of doubt, and arching my
back, I purred along the wall, side stepping
sharp sabotage, where blood spurts,
cuts split their sides, dropping droplets

reddened and dark, stains of a thousand
prints, their script to prevent access.
I borrowed a moment from the street
sellers cart, persisted that I would not
sell him out, that the ground was solid
under my feet, bolt upright, proof

I sang my belief, like a bold penance,
scenes where money would cross palms
of one asking for more, a bowl held high,
armed with charming smiles. their half
beliefs studying my every transparency,
the guttural deluge swiftly passing me to

sewered excellence, tugging my heels,
entwining shoe laced lies. And how I
would fail, unable to shift the showcase
of my life. But, suckered under
the slip stream, I gargled the depths
while you made space for my spewing