Burbank, CA. USA
My extremities twitch like junk sickness
the intolerable liteness of being forces
me deeper, into this burnt out forest
of mixed emotion.
I watch you rise before first light
like a bird out of Phoenix hell bent
on satisfaction, shaking off the ashes
of our smoldering DC-10.
You do not grimace from the pain
but from the thought of loving me
more than life, which you sacrificed
nightly upon our bed.
I am your nemesis, Ordure Apparent
co-joined at the soul we become one
in purpose, putting off the flesh
and all of it's entanglements.
Convention will keep us conventional
a self-sufficient unit bearing offspring,
despite underlying resentments
and bitter regret.
Into our twilight remaining faithful
feigning fond memories, recalling sweet
nothings, even as our children
leave us for dead.
J. F. Kinyon
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