…Flights of Fantasy (VII) The Other Wrist…

The after-care special

I’m at a loss.

So where then do you find me.
It’s a fine cap you’ve feathered, boss.
With your subsequence behind me.

You knew me well, you started.
I suspect you fobbed along.
A rhyming scheme imparted.
Your recall, very hop-along.

And brazen, in brackish waters, you slip and you slew
What a to-do then, that you were the one I needed
In order to get through it all. My insides on the outside.

Catch me if you can.
Around you, I couldn’t catch a cold.
But you’ll likely not see me again.
Quit ‘yer caterwauling!!


Be for it

Fall away, there’s nothing left
Call off the day, the time’s bereft
of all you’ve known– you’ll come to see

she’ll let you think that you are free

Freedom is a choice– given one
you’ve already given up on yours
Fall away, back in-line. It’s gone

how to be two, not leave one

Exhale, it’s not a failing. You must fall short
When not exhaling, avail yourself of the support
Sharper focus, of course — Careful reminder

she was behind you, waiting for you to find her

Out-of-order, fall to the border
Your catch-and-release program awaits
Afford yourself the restraint– failure to wait

he’s right behind her, never to find her


strawberry fields do not pluck themselves

 

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