to the crooked table's edge
sticky blood oranges
hanging on
one breath away
from free fall
a drop shot
their downfall
no one seems to notice
i don't know how much longer
they can hold on
perched there
on such a very
small
ledge
may push them off myself
save them the humiliation
when with
one good squeeze
quicker than a startled gasp
if the lights go out
eyes close
and they get blamed
for the strange
stinging
flowing into
darkness
No comments:
Post a Comment