creeps in like a monster in the closet
but sleeps like the glazing of a setting sun
must you force yourself so nonchalantly
into a place that anyway beckoned?
abuse, unheard of
tainted love
where comprehension lacks
and presumed river flows
my face is BURIED.
MY face is buried.
but a familiar one trots and sports
and loves and glows
near you, funny thing,
all over Texas.
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1 comment:
yeah... i'm totally with ya. ignorance is sometimes the sweetest bliss, especially with respect to love... or lack there of...
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