i’ve become receptive to any piece of endearment
as if getting you to talk to me is some sort of achievement
curve of your lips. the forming words swirled into art
the muse from the Louvre turns my oeuvre into all
to consume what you do, with every molecule i control
then to being consumed… & then to being controlled
i’ve learned that timing is a tool that you brandish
practiced brainwashing of patience duly examined
adept at adapting. pervasive. detachment
waiting at the riverbanks edges for the prey. you attacked
I took what I had left, to make a full cloak
a wolf near the willow tree. & a sheep in wool clothing
didn’t need a disguise, i saw you coming a mile away
meters turned to inches. maybe i wanted the pain

if i say im happy, there should be an asterisk given

so now

i gaze past your position. ‘til days past come and visit
make happiness vivid.  gray bandage. incisions.
that’s why executioners wear masks.
guillotine uncomfirmed
stared at the medusa-like glare & into stone i was turned
the same stone you built bridges with just to burn*

Published by Cristian Leonardo

Cristian's Cafe. This is my cafe, we have Wi-Fi, but it's not very good. Poetry, Podcasts, Personal Blogging, Research Articles, Open Mic, Comedy, Art. An entire website dedicated to my many forms of expression and happiness.

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