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By Cire Nehtrow Date: 2011 Jan 16 Comment on this Work [[2011.01.16.03.20.28312]] |
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Anyone else will always be a substitute, Do you know that? Perhaps, that is why, You turn away, look down; feign to be mute. Crazy monkeys, crazy love; crazy cry. Puss’n boots and playing I suppose, Swivel those hips, I love the look, The curve, the hook, that subtle pose, A substitute for the love you took. I would have died for you soul melted, So many rhymes and climbs remind me, Your taste, your kiss, your wanton felted, Table of desires shelved behind thee. Balls scattered, broken, impotent eight, Cue ball frozen to the rail. Me such a hollow veil of fate, My love's lost sad limpid sail. Strong full fury rides the waves, Its folly pounds the angry sea, A deeper love than you could save, Your life, your love, abandoned me. Aquamarine dying dream, Lost in lost loves swirling green. |