Original Poem: Arms of the Deep

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
deep.

Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please follow, like, comment, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at thevoraciousbibliophile@yahoo.com or catch me on Twitter @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

© 2021 Fred Slusher. All rights reserved.

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