Acrimony.
You
lit the fuse inside
and were the muse beside
quelling bruise and cry of tide
never refusing or denied.
Oh how you skewed my pride
and continued to deny -
no use for us to try
or choose as we
not I.
One Response to “Acrimony.”
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March 5th, 2006 at 11:38 am
This flows beautifully. The poet escapes abrupt in the last sentence, licking his wounds.Well seen.