We are split in the middle. Denying you crave a knight I stand here anxiously awaiting my damsel. Meanwhile Clouds douse the hot packed earth Fall leaves rouse like flocks of birds And trail in blond disarray Behind an invisible piper. We are split in the middle. You tiptoe on unsteady shoes Reaching for higher ground, and yet Somehow you still find the time to leave behind A shoe. Admit you need to be rescued Or if that leaves a taste too bitter to swallow You be the hero And rescue Me. Either way We’re merely turning the tables Isn’t this the way the world goes Beyond all the high-minded talk of he and she, he and he or she and she It’s a simple question of who’s on top And the complicated scramble that ensues?
(via: http://ilcoloredirosso.wordpress.com/poetry/)
-10/25/2004
