Preening

Pops and whistles through gaps
we string together and brace
against apple cores and raps
from life to cheek and face

Receding to a lighthouse
of glowing, shiny shock
that is anxious in the sun now;
a sundial: a natural clock

Filtered black, we drip and drip
waiting for sips and blows of love
topped to the brim; instant and ripped
we shake, asserting: “it’s not enough.”

Leathery, empty and winded
by the boots of unwrinkled greed.
“How can this be rescinded?”
We wonder, frown and plead.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s