One of Those Days


Images eluding me
Ducking behind cracked metaphors
Hiding under layers of yellowed analogies
Spinning away from my pen.

Dancing naked, formless before me
Shamelessly beautiful, beyond capture
For sale? I beg to touch
To feel, to smell their sweetness
I will pay anything to own one.

Dissolving into mocking laughter
They fan the pages of dusty volumes
Pointing to dead sisters who blossomed long ago
Still remembered, talked about, spent and used.

Are you so heartless? Their accusation
Whirling frantically, twisting my soul.
Would you do the same to us?
With pleasure.


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