deepundergroundpoetry.com
neophyte (alot of trouble for a little bit of win)
they take longer to toss around now
not as close to the ache of impatience
and they glide through dialogue
lessening the heavy edge of conviction
murder me if I mention it
let us make love on summer's last hillside
under an immense name for night
made it through fresh found gunpowder
with the laughter of animated lingering
stay with me
a little longer still
they never did align right behind demand
let alone deception
but they outright refuse affiliation anymore
without all burden becoming combustible
a little longer
took them a few weeks this throw
to hit me where permission sits
still
allowing the air out
slowly
along cotton padded edges
of an ostrich egg
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