Briefly, before retort

432a1f78aa4dbe5f9a11bd1afea97dc6What if you were?

different

waking up putting your feet over the side of the bed

with the harsh unrelenting knowledge before you think of anything else

I am trapped inside myself

these are my feet cankered and worn with little parchment lines drawn

for every regret I possess

I can hide all day from seeing them but come night, climbing into bed, still they will remind

you are subject to yourself

what if you are a raging inferno within smoked glass?

and everyone buys the exterior version that comes with a label?

choose your own go on, you know you want to

write it in permanent pen on the underside of my third finger

it is human bondage

as ad-verb the moustached man picks ‘mysteriously’

the Irishman says a noun; ‘predictable’

the Hipster proclaims adjective; ‘too old’

the Gen-X femme fatale scolds; ‘not enough visible scars and I hate how she can wear a skirt that tight over her scales’

and you? You don’t speak because you traded in your words for a shot and then another

drunk neat and with your elbow at perfect ninety degree angle

reflecting the awkwardness of ritual in bar window smeared with tarot gravy dust

you do not tell me

stop wearing hose in 70 degrees and if you must, choose pastel hues or flesh

flesh is the color of us all and none at all, for wolves come in multi-color and neon

you do not tell me

cut your hair though it has begun to trail across the bar like ivy once won will entomb even the redolent doll faces who obey without query their whiskered diviner

let’s see how far it goes before the world implodes, then we can sell it by the ounce for bonfires or new clothes

you do not correct

my pronouncement of life or the syllabus of strife I work against my sulfur state with enriching purpose

you could knock me off my slide so easily, bring your trained fist to my cheek, salt the wound pour a little rum and black call me a new blend of this and that

here drink it down and turn into tarmac

you could run over me, keep me flat or press your iced lips to my heat and have me beg

but it’s been a long B side and it’s time for the rain to ease, where drivers, previously intent, lessen up, watching for a break of light through cloud formation

you know why I stand here, pressing my hips against your side, empty me, chamber my void

you take me by the throat, lay me down in my own match book to sleep, watch the children dream, how deeply they ride their velvet horses

you bought me rings without names and names without ownership

I own the fierce tail of my pursuit and not much else

when we lie beneath the city listening to her caw

you are still as cold water washing over me in rinse and roar

it’s not your way to feel

you love without desire

desire without love

the rub and the rub and the rub

no fire will come

it is my conjecture this will end when the rain starts again and cars slow down even more to peer in

tin-can blurred faces seeing nudes vaulting tables and a man holding a gun

gentle as a lover without fingerprint

you place it in my mouth

then yours

the taste and smell of fire

would you have time to bruise?

briefly

before

retort

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13 thoughts on “Briefly, before retort

  1. Every time. Every time you take me down the rabbit hole with you and I want to stay with you as long as I can. I imagine it’s throw a fit like a kid when you said it was time to leave. Lol! ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Candice,

    I love this line “I own the fierce tail of my pursuit and not much else.” This tells me the gist of the effort. The picture you used also is perfectly pertinent to the story.

    Well done, my friend, Keith

    Liked by 1 person

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