Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Tortured Valentine

Whatever I was thinking
became the wild card
the secret I was keeping
like the captive tied
to the chair complies
and then defies his torturer
I spilled my hairy guts
in such confusing costumes
dynasties of disinformation
were swept screaming out to sea
still my secret sleeps with me
was I not myself and free
I would not say the mystery
of my love I held
whatever I was thinking

1 comment:

William Keckler said...

"was i not myself and free" brings a killer quatrain home.