She put down the page of my
life
as I walked away from her
meaning.
Somehow the blanket around
me
unraveled towards her.
I turned, loaded my mouth
with words,
preparing a response.
Instead a wreath of thorny
rose stems
gut-fully came my way.
I doubled over this crown
of her pronouncement.
In my chauffeured
projection,
I was both the weaver and
recipient.
And I felt her indifference
look down,
applauding my deepening
pain.
I lay there, a sedation of
nouns,
as I looked up at her.
She seemed pre-topical,
a de facto mandate of
silence
staring me down.
She was preparing her
humanness,
to leave me right there.
I searched for storyline
reasons
to follow her, but instead
unrolled a red carpet
of my wounded responses.
Her dominance walked away,
commanding my undivided
attention.
The popcorn machine is
serving boxes
of my teeth yet this movie,
to me, is tasteless . . .
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