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Fickle Moon








Fickle Moon



I know this may lack logic/
I'm too damn honest/
And cant often/
Keep a bland promise/
Take my hand, walk with/
Me and understand problems/
Come with me like leaves smashed, fallen/
Underfoot in a damp Autumn/
I grab often/
At the dark for a lamp stalking/
Me, begging for the light like a plant starving/
A man carves is/
Place out with ants crawling/
All over him/
But I've chosen this/
Life, and the mad mauling/
That I know exists/
And will always land haunting/
Me, I cant follow/
The lamb's slaughter/
Cause I'll laugh dropping/
Exposing this/
Lack of ownership/
Over this/
Floating rift/
Closing in/
On me, I hear the chants starting/
About how I make no sense/
And you hate those men/
That claim broken/
Status/
Out of habit/
Only to chase those checks/
Straight to wrecks/
I make you stressed/
But you love to awake and flex/
In my arms, painful stretch/
Aches and tremb-/
Ling limbs, tracing deft/
Across my gainful chest/
Baby lets/
Tame old pets/
Inhaling jet/
Streams of fabric/
And romantic/
Thoughts, basic tense/
So come lay in bed/
To the pace we set/
And maybe then/
You wont see the weights and pens/
And realize with a sagely edge/
That I'm an unstable mess/
In great distress/
Both our signals are mixed/
But the difference is/
That in the middle of this/
Interesting flick-/
Er of glimmering glitt-/
Er I'm picturing whisk-/
Ing you away to our hidden abyss/
Minimal trips/
To a literal cripp-/
Le, I'm lifting you with/
A little of this/
And that, assiduous risk/
But I'm missing the kiss/
Of that innocent bliss/
You deliver to this/
Unfiltered dismissed/
Deviant/
Steeping in/
His liquor and pills/
Intimate thrills/
With legitimate will/
In the interim he'll/
Enjoy it while withering still/
In this room/
An interlude/
The risk exudes/
My distant ruse/
It's my inner tube/
Keeping me floating, and I will it to/
Exist in you/
This is proof/
That the mistress youve/
Become to me/
Is something need-/
Ed by a troubled me/
For all the years I've moved/
Dinner, smooth/
As the liver croons/
A simple tune/
In our sinner's booth/
Drinks, whiskey, true/
Something sweet for little you/
Dipped in fruit/
That shimmers through/
Caught in the brittle youth/
Of the light of the fickle moon/


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