Sparse in the chase,
for life, not death.
scar on my face,
lump in my throat.
gasp in your breath.
My breath, clasping chest, I
guess my last.
Thumps in your sweater, I hold together.
tingles in your clothes and toes,
a fever atop your head,
we swim away from where we should have tread.
The things I should have said.
The word "Love" too much..my best guess, I suppose.
Dreading words not said...but the response they spread...best left unsaid.
Money rents lust and fun, but not “True Love” and "the one" that comes on the cusp, off the cuff.
A true heart never captured, but on the run, is open and undone.
In the absence of sound,
you frown turns to the ground,
it drowns me.
Only fit to see my heart flambeed and fricasseed.
**** first dates...I survive. I proceed.


June 2013 By R. Craig David