Tunnel Visions

You are the wrong kind of torque

An un-fun velocity

A ballsy, bitter ride

In an ego-driven coupe

I’d prayed to survive

I am the wanted-to-walk

An emotional dallier

A noticing, freak-of-nature

In a too-long skirt length

You’d failed to ally

Siesta

It

Feels like

It’s 

The middle of July

Silent ‘cept the cicadas

Lazy mid-day breeze 

Took its own siesta now

I’m left

Lying and akimbo

Eyes near-closed

Askin’ for a prayer

With nothin’ but slow breathing

To cool me from this daze