Sunday, September 25, 2016

Fiction Song


In this blinking diary we share--

Scribbling stories, passing it along--

Swooning for each others' tallest tales;

Raising up the right aside the wrong

We have baked from scratch our better selves

From our meager pantries, wracked with doubt;

Knowing they look better than they taste;

Somehow sure that we'll be spat right out.

In each others' backlit window gaze,

Mannequins designed down to the stitch,

We have held the world at distance, so to blend

Truth with act; the granted with the wish.


In this thick taxonomy of loves

Elbowing each other in the queue,

One can only hold a place so long;

Every love that's waiting there is true.

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