If you should bring to me that
rope or sharpened knife and point it to my head I would stand in front of you
with wincing eyes dulled by time. Feeling dead. I would sit still
and ask: Should I be dead? is there no more for me to learn
love or feel? And then you turn away shaking YOUR head and
say 'wHAT DO YOU THINK WHAT DO YOU FEEL?
I cry out wheres my second love? Where could he be?
Under a bridge in a box under a tree? Where can he
be you asked.. and say ' I don't know, I just don't
Saturday, February 27, 2021