Escape Goodbyes…

September 16, 2013

My Epil-o-gues

Passive-
Aggressive
Apology.

Regret

The things
You said
You did

By me.

Like building branded bridges
Just to burn
The blood-bought skill of meaning-

Can’t un-earn

Return
Retry
Or
Escape
goodbye.

And what won’t happen next?
A bullet through the chest?
An egg fallen from this nest?

Remorse inside.

A likely story, but none of it’s true?
A suspect futile fiction through and through.
All written well and uncommonly told,
To grab familiar doubts and turn us old.

You’ve got the world held, upside-down
And spilled the milk on your night-gown
The shadow found the furtive shape,
And thus you took- and ate- the grape

From the vine of the
Homely knowledge
Of pleasure and of pain

And wept at life
Imagined: hopeful;
Bereaving
All
In vein.

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