23 questions.
All left unanswered.
When I’m stripped bare,
I hurt — like an exposed tooth's centre.
Ugly, like a pink boiled shrimp,
I think I need to fall for a vicious imp —
The kind that glows too bright to dare,
No chance at all — that's safer there.
When there’s hope,
Tomorrow’s thought becomes a terror.
A firm “no”, with made-up nuance errors —
That’s what I need.
And best of all —
If you’re in a tower, high and tall.
So we can speak
from a noble distance.
Maybe even using
a megaphone
for our conversation.
May 3 2020