The last thing I’m searching for is an escort
Since the last thing I desire are rebuffs
A girdle hug, miniscule body language
saying you’ve had enough, a waning smile
A dark glaze when you say you’ll stay
But then off you go, and here I remain
Nerves alight in kaleidoscopic color, all around, crackling, humming and
making a low static sound
I am this Christmas tree of anxiety
Burning the house to the ground
While the family sleeps, unknowingly
Implicated in its catastrophe
The only pet I have cares not for me
There’s no emotion to extract
For once I think there’s no expectation
So it really can’t be that bad
(But I’d miss her/ like hell/like
You
when you burn out …)
–LM
Loved this, Lauren – great noir imagery throughout!
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Thank you Tom, I always appreciate your input 😁
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I love it. Especially when you spoke about the minuscule body language and all of the nuances that come with it.
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Thank you so much ❤ you’re an inspiration for me!
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Aw that went straight to my heart. It makes me want to start dreaming up some poetry again 💕 Thank you.
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love this….great prose to sip my scotch to
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Thank you! Enjoy your scotch 😉
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😃🥰
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