Going Rogue

Watch out, he’s going rogue
behind the eyes again.
He’s whipping his lips
into a frenzy again,
drawing obscenities from the air again.

And again, we watch on
as his laughter implodes again,
as his luster loses then finds itself again,
and the sun, in a goodbye-haste,
spills pink nectar o’er the sky again.

He whispers to the wisps
at play in the emergent dark
something lascivious, tongue-worthy,
and the little wisps, uplifted,
feast delighted fast again
upon the meat of his phrase.

-r. miller

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