I sit
nowhere.
St. James
clocks in,
I sit firm
in his chair,
I could only
imagine
How I
appear.
I think,
Fuck
It
A
Lot…
I think,
How I got
here,
A door
becoming open,
An echo of stilettos
upon
The front
porch of my endorsement.
Imagine me
as Kevin,
I am home
alone and I just spilled the chili,
Only these
beans are all of my decisions leading up to this moment:
Curtains
close.
That’s it,
That’s all I
know,
I tend to
drift,
Like a car
on snow.
Like my love
to her kiss,
Like heat from a coal,
Where ever
love is
I tend to go.
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