Wednesday, September 10

Paintball

PAINTBALL
Paintball, 
Indigo walls, 
Velvet hands were part of it,
Most of it.
The clasp clicked,
Closed on a sin,
Though you wanted it then,
Knowing, you waited while
It touched
Some chord within.
Recrimination went
Unanswered,
Mouthed in a dark hole
The size of that
One knot in the brain
That like a self-inflicted cut crusting over
Circumstantially,
Coincidentally
Will never work itself out.
https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/aXTIbD4rl4d_SXCAgXv3Tq21CZrR_VfqseS7591AWnCw8tTcsFK6Kf3H_25TmgXXfo39=s85

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