Ticked
Why did she do it, he asked,
go and spill herself all over the place?
She knew I needed her mesmerizing mystery.
I liked her best
behind lace curtains
in a tall-up tree
hiding from me.
My mind's eye had much better vision,
even in the dark, I could see her, hear her,
even touch her.
But now,
I couldn't care less.
ampoule, August Eighth, TwoThousandTwelve


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