Way beyond reality’s pale

Without cause or justified reason

Abused bodies touted for sale

Hawk scented wares in due season

Stealthily cloaked in furtive background

Insidious rumours quickly spread

Reputations sink – completely drown

Worries confound depleted heads

 

An isolated dream, gushing paradoxical

Surreality, broached shoaled tentative twists

Verged on psychic abnormality, goading

Imagination’s haphazard split

She drools, slowly salivates; her mind’s eye

Savours every regurgitated, avariciously

Sly, mouth-watering thought.  Bulging biceps

Become protracted tourniquets, squeezing

Receptive issue from separate vestibules

Deep within her lacerated heart

 

Relationships only perturb when unproven

Gave her every-all, when time demanded

Questions left unspoken.

He’s gone; loftily ensconced on the winner’s

Rostrum, she: left to dwell on things –

Heart irreparably broken.  Life hardly has

To be this way, many survive literal

Embarrassment, with; sad memories,

When a sense of loss holds sway; serving

Token votaries after lengthy entrapment.

Encased yearning – haggard emotions – totally

Spent, wrapped in hollow reclusive mourning

 

Another recalcitrant hopeful stubbornly

Waits in line; disreputably seeking his time

Alerting all manner of accents, appearing

To be ultimately sublime; pushing pumped

Pigeon-chest, abdominals over-exaggerate

Through wafer-thin vest.  A fresh-faced

Lion’s whelp, most recently released from

Immaturity’s shelf.  She anoints her favoured

Facial aplomb – cautiously eyes his grin – wailing

Her harpies’ song, soon to repent, and begin

Again, pretending it’s really him

 

Not long before she loses track

Sells herself on an insecure whim

Opened to reminisced accusations, of: slack

Retarded over-used rubbish bin.

To ignore her inner obstinate verve

Goes contrary, to how she actually feels

Retired to lonely obsequious nerves

Avidly condoning thoughts, of secret love

She self-indulgently steals; setting her wire

– baiting her trap – nervously lets him in

 

Many lovers crossed the lintel of her

Well-used front door; deeply wrapped

Physical features she can hardly ignore; bodily

Ripples entice her mind, accusations steadily

Rewind.  Every untimely end, she expectantly

Finds, begins again.  Futile dreams

Once lost, determine she’s found Lover’s Lane

-a man, to endure night – furtively grinds sexual ardour

Until the novelty wears off, unreserved

Ritual candour: starts again, to begin once more.

 

 

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