Confidence Makes Her Wet

I scratched her indecision off my list,
threw our frame, shattering it upon the porcelain,
softly dreaming the door that she stomped through
would return her storming back.
I tried too hard. I gave up my friends to make her smile
and for a while, it did.
But it didn’t last long; it never did.
I’m up in a sleepwalk, sweeping glass and my heart off the floor.
I wore my intentions pressed against her lips.
Nothing gold can stay between her default diamond worth
and the smoke she breathes,
clearing the room as I dream of what’s real.
What I can feel. She’s wearing a black mini-skirt
with dark lipstick.
She’s over it enough to try again.

(© 2022 AC)


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Poetry Nation

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