10 January 2012

beneath the bay window

someone told me he was hiding
he vaguely details his abuse
what it feels like the intimacy issues
the shrugging arrogance of love

someone tells me he is dying
on a napkin he inks out the invisible
unwelcome suffocating in a dream 
he stabs it into his mind's eye 

someone will talk about hope
this dear fear of dreaded things
washed and rinsed honestly undressed
then playing, again, momentarily hidden

beneath the bay window.

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