Hanging up the words on a clothesline
to dry up the sadness. The tears wet
my bra and panties and now look
at me. Wrong kind of wet. Right
kind of wrong. Such a deep
mess on the outline of the sea.
Wrapped around the belts
around my waist, in your hands
around my thoughts in the
wandering streets. Love wakes
me up with kisses on my cheeks,
it startles me out of my reverie
while I pump gas. Left the locket
on my dresser, left my mind
on your doorstep. Walk with me
the day is long, the nights are
windy, the pain excruciating.
Make the scene sexy with
all the words left out,
all the fantasies played out. It
is only a dream within a dream
the theater of the absurd
and we are sitting in the last row
playing footsies underneath
the imaginary mistletoe. Grab
your coat…
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georgeforfun 