Love is not a cat chasing shadows on the floor.Fred Slusher, “Arms of the Deep”
Lull me into oblivion. My attention span
is limited. Infinity, space, time—
your voice in my ear, bottom lip on my lobe—
turning love into cherries into wine.
Creamsicle daylight is wasting away
while we wait for the song to finish playing.
When you were mine life was always
a game sweetly played, vollied to & fro like
the king’s severed head; no throne.
Fade to black. Next reel, please.
Pleas to be real with me remain ignored.
Love is not a cat chasing shadows on the floor.
I feel you watching me caressing my own crooks
in the dark. Elbows, not thieves, though
everything of value has been stolen at one time or
another. Dear lover, take this rambling lullaby
& pitch it into the sea where memory goes to
sleep in the steadfast arms of the
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