And I walk beside him
With a centaur's step
Unlucky shoe trailing behind sure foot
Small worlds for balls in his feet
That turn and spin
As my head and mind follow suit
And I walk beside him
A LiveGhostJournal
Frying, small voice inquiring
After his proclaimer's resonance
Wondering if his secret is gifted to me
Or a cut and paste job
Control x, control v
The elevator's cautious simmer
Alive and sometimes well to this day
Belated
Perhaps the overflowing boil of 17
Now bruised and lacerated
Is biding, biding
Bidding on the future
Tense
Biting tongue
So that the whole truth is blood
Cornering mouth, coating lung
Wishing for his lips as serviettes
Dab once, dab twice
Chasing tail, like three blind mice
And I run to the carving knife
As I walk beside him
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