Monday 29 October 2012
dancing to the edge
the writing was on the wall as
we danced around the edges
of nonchalance and disdain
I rubbed you the wrong way
placed you on the back foot
you prodded at my insecurities
picking over the carcass of a pervious life
fury darkens your eyes to ebony
at times I lift you eight foot tall
or cower you to a tiny speck
we both knew sometime
we would give up the matador stance
of bravado and flashing cloaks
stripped down
you and me
together.
KD 29/10/12
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A different kind of love story...all too common...hope it works out in the end...lovely write, Kay...
ReplyDeleteSometimes it happens that way doesn't it? Hopefully they both survive it.
ReplyDelete=)
Oh, I really like the matador metaphor.
ReplyDeleteOh, yes! I'm liking the feel to this one. Picking at the carcass is a fabulous line!
ReplyDeleteThere are so may lovely lines here.
ReplyDeleteI used the word nonchalant in mine. That's how it came across to me.