you have the
audacity
to don
another robe
and claim
an entrance
to my heart.
you have the audacity
to flick my heart -
as raw
as tender
as a slab of uncooked meat -
a mere steak
you would barbecue for lunch
after prodding
and turning in
the bloody marinade you prepared
with such serendipity.
you are audacious
- I think
with some repetition -
as I lay here semi-conscious
fuming with thoughts of
closure
and
disclosure
finally
deciding
upon neither.
Only printing words onto
my heart
and wearing it
on my sleeve.
