deepundergroundpoetry.com
Abeyance
Eventually he pulled the trigger upon
the threshold of mistaken identities
while I waited patiently
sucking his revolver full of shells.
It was attempted murder
in the first degree
premeditated
as he hesitated.
Our hearts were held captive in abeyance
awaiting the deliberation of a hung jury
to determine the sentence.
Life... without parole.
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