She was rusted shut

I am shaking the rust off;

you dance below

as if it is snow

and you are a child

wild

with joy.

once I shine

I will be with you boy

our new start

will be

polished

to blinding

and I am finding

corrosion through tears

just puts me

in proverbial junkyards,

a discard.

it’s this hard

to say sorry,

scrub myself clean,

ask wizards for hearts,

abide in your

absurd dreams.

I’m the trophy of redemption,

the machine of simpatico,

and a tool

with rosy cheeks,

ready for the sequel

to my virgin ignition

You are the oil of ambition

to reach a place like home.

Published in: on December 27, 2011 at 12:49 am  Comments (2)  
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2 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Excellent, bittersweet even. All the right words in the right place, just melts of the tongue when read aloud.

    Happy New Year to you, btw, hope things go well.

    • Thanks. Things are pretty rough. At least it prods writing…


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