you own the vacant here,
it’s a bitter lemon, schtucking
my cheeks, my sleep’s

with closed doors
& eyes & coffee cradled
i’ll recall & reminisce
all our times fantastic

, lost&found-ness
, safe&sound-ness
, higher ground
but now there’s less, there are

razor arrow fault lines, drawn back, and bullscar
aimed and fired, but they missed their
Mark, and now there’s just a bitter
lemon schtucking swill in my mouth, and you are


6 thoughts on “remininquished

  1. love the invented words, I do that myself now and again, you may have noticed…how dare they, “they” say, but fuck ’em I say, it’s a privilege I will lay claim to again and again..

  2. schtucking … loving the word. I am oh so familiar with the “space” you are defining. When all that is left is the … schtucking taste in your mouth.

    Well done, creative and moving – and never sappy.

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