Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god


You sip the aperitif,
Your lips curling into a sneer.
You look at me,
Considering me not bawdry
Enough to share a glance with.
I wept long enough as a fool,
My raindrop tears dry fast
For this cygnet will
Soon flourish fast.
But this daemon turns to me,
Rips me open.
My insides visible to all.
I shudder at this expose'.
Febrile, I dance down the hallway
KNowing you expect I to become
A genuflecting pauper.
Putting my soul on hiatus, I give
An ineffable stare and glide away,
Becoming jussive in style.


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