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Monique
Monique

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Stairwell

The lady in the stairwell

She speaks to me in rhyme,

I climbed each step towards her

Alas, she's lost elsewhere in time


She's drawn about the mirror 

The glass exposes her affairs,

Shining fixtures draw me nearer

To soft locks spilling down her stairs.

And I'd have spoken sooner,

Had the lady, universe

Sooner touched my naked thigh,

Had she not but stole my sighing words.


Yet the waters so receding 

And the night, lo, tis deceiving

I can't place faith in the evening

It's got me fearful by mine own verbs

When I've fallen into heat, and bleating

And my resonating pulse is fleeting

The steps to her ever repeating...

And I'll get just what I deserve.


I am seething.

I am leaving.


And the babe cries on the airplane

The femmes brandish their rights.

And a stewardess smiles wryly 

As she dims the cabin lights.


Now I barely taste that ellipsis

The deep night, she never sleeps

The sun shies into slumber

For every humble star that weeps.


-mmd. 2015.

Stairwell

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