Friday, May 20, 2022

komiserate

i know how you feel, i do,
i have walked the miles in your shoes.

stillborn smiles stalled behind the lips
paroled in a thousand years but long have sailed the ships.

my 'i love yous' blurred into i, deserts between, and you
my confession sold as terror or ire - neither the truth

the eons stretched on as long as your lashes
my confession aged - i wish as wine, but no - as ashes.



2022.may.20