Sunday Arrival

I left my lover girl, that busty girl, in Some Grand Place

Got on a plane and just left her there

Smiling, she, chasing me
A happy fool, out of breath, certain she’d succeed eventually

Waiting came, then
Watching

Her eyes half covered, like we were playing hide and seek and it was getting dark

Peeking

She didn’t want to lose me in the misty twilight

She didn’t lose me in the misty twilight

She didn’t lose me

She didn’t

Elevated

Not taking no for an answer, She
Dressed up sexy for the crimes of He

Master-mechanic motivating, She
A fine-tuned engine emerges, He

Speaking in the same tongue, You & Me
Ascend from sorrow’s basement, We

She

The sliver of time before I became tragic
Was it a wicked serpent’s word
Some desired autonomy
This devotion to husband and child?

Think with me honestly
What of heart’s protracted pain
Is my sweet apple affinity
My downfall?

On the Eve

serpent at My ankles, always
And nighttime evermore
“She should have known better,” they’ll say about Me
She, Me and the similar others
significant others who also ought
Now nonetheless wise to the slither