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