1.19.18

Moody warbles…
Sometimes they penetrate,
and others… The look
of irritation sweeps over her.
She minds her agenda.
I keep my secrets in a mini flask.
Night resuscitates almost completely,
envelops half-heartedly.
Holding fast to my means of comprehension…
Cohesion limiting… Her,
coolly frowning
as my escapades put me in the corner.

-r.miller

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