She tells him rhetorical footsteps
in the right direction
offer no movement,
and cause her to question.
Every line of promise
started with a premise,
ended with placation.
She was still stuck in
a distant vibration.
He called it her head in the clouds.
They once exchanged vows,
now they both exchange sighs.
Demise is hard to recognize
when one swallows lies,
ends up liking the taste…
and one is edging understanding,
dreaming of smashing her plate.
Not with utensils
from faded old drawers,
but the most expensive,
impulsive pink guitar
his blues won’t allow her
to play.
#bravewrite #firewords280 #foxprose #pennedreveries #vss365