You have your claws in me, tenderly. Play with your prey make me whimper like I do when you rip me open. Slipping away from you - I run and pray you catch me.
Your invitation was lost in the mail, is what they tell you - like the last crocus to bloom in spring lonely in tardiness. Pick your head up, crocus. I will watch you bloom.
I am the playing card in the wheel of a child's bicycle. Playing big man, I'll trick you like I tricked myself. The world lives between the cracks in window blinds, the actors find their marks and I deliver my line.
I’m marking time in hair, I haven’t seen you in inches. I’m scared to cut my bangs because you might show up again, so I’ll let them grow to cover my eyes just in case you do.