Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Slow and cool

I am my own wild animal now
Three-sixty alert. Watch me snarl at all the tamers.

Land on my filthy soles, keep vigil.
Don't touch me don't touch me don't touch me. I am not safe.

It cuts, what I brandish. Yes I would.
Things creep in, it is hard to say the words the right way.

Love looks like you or me. Time cowers.
There is a corner for laying it down, slow and cool.

Ha! You would speak my words, steal my mouth?

Am I banished from the podium, because I'm wild?

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