I tricked her
Like a trickster,
With garlic tinged fingers;
Slip us a drip in there love
As it lingers.
For simple rings
With metal tints,
And shop soiled ancillary gems,
Are the next worst thing
To a last drink.
With her apocryphal tale
Now amended to mine,
Announced to all
And sundry;
A cynical tale
Uplifted from time,
And made to fall
On Sunday.
I dreamt she lived unlike my life
So I cancelled her awakening.
She bit her tongue,
But not hard enough,
As it stayed on;
Please try again
So it may come off
And be gone.
For we have to get after them,
And make more than haste,
For the longer we tend to them
The more backs will break.
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