Saturday, August 1, 2015

Hold Fast

Suction cups for hands
There was too much water to stick

She dove down deep
Never came up for air

Pretending to play house
Focused on make-believe and blow ups

Scattered like spilled skittles
Pleased by daydreams and sacrifice

Pilots of totality
Blind memories

Shunned and returned
Betrayed by the obvious

Sanctioned and evolved
Devoured and revolved

She spun, she span
Above, below, long ago, and present

Travels do tell
Feelings still fail

While sitting alone
All trample at a single tone

Serving up again
Your booze, your voice

Here's some more priceless advice
Soar back, feet, and mind

Your quarter story
My endless tip

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