Saturday, August 24, 2013


torn between fuck off
and love you
mulling the in-between
attracted to your anger
repelled by your mean
loving that you’re different
though you poke too hard at seams
we speak a language
not unlike
the spectre in our dreams
age and distance
ego’s wounds
rip apart the wind
i’m open, easy, undefined
let’s put aside the win
pace our growling
to the finish
not your style?
rather diminish?
silly woman
so inclined
check the map and
you will find
I’m on the road you
I don’t leave
without the prize

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