She walked in haggard circles radiant
so that eclipse shadow could not catch her
so that each time I found her
she was gone again
in faint touch in sordid whisper grooming
a knife wound flushing my cardinal
spirits in splits and funk
our criminal intention gone underground
that last cuckold laughter
I can almost remember its cadence
in sinner's robes flashing us from
the parapet calling thunder a coward
a serpent's semen signature scrolled
the coming of a passing thief
these vagrant thoughts
of cigarette affection
of thirst
of your soft full weight in the center
of my hands
she was here, I'm sure of it
bastard relief is all I am left feeling
I don't have to look, she is gone again
I know.
TA
. The Poet's Beat .
Monday, April 10, 2023
Splits and Funk
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