What it it that you’re pretending?
A slap to the chest – the result of an angered grimace
Discomfort to the banana ants
I know your story
A “never-will-be” type of treatment
I see all corners of your glass.
Fool yourself with the foolishness of approach
Yellow like the bus of “young scholars;” like the disgust in my reflection -
To see what you DARED to do!
To take step in a direction of calming auras – my wooden and starved throne, before the wandering eyes.
Mop away that…
That “for me…”
That lane of lies – those of which I do not care to partake in…
Make sure to send me that poison – as if – make sure to bake a newer batch.
A Potassium connoisseur
A sewer of relations
A devastation to relationship
The shallowness of a kiss.
Find my words
Dig beneath the putrid tiles on which you walk
I don’t need anything – not from you, not from I
But as the robotic response is delivered, mailed and such, I foretell what is told.
Behold – you hold the mold – my heart – NEVER MORE
But, my surest mail-woman, return to the offices of dual tribulation
Two of one kind…
Ants ate the will – so ask them if you will – if they too tingle from your tainted touch
Too much laughter..
Because I now know what it is that you are…..
You are as the banana ants.