Run, hideaway-
She's a trench,
You know,
A swamp.
A couch
On which
Complacency looms...
Contently
Contemptly
(something with a C)
She picks
Her fingernails-
Knees to her chest
To seem innocent
Swamp, valley, lagoon-
Quicksand-
Or something like that
So inviting
(Impenetrable invincibility)
To you
I can't meet my eyes to it,
to her,
With foresight.
Brotherly love
So this
Is how we sit
Upon thrones
In our family
(In your world)
So much constriction
Restriction
On tongues
On words
It's nearly rotted away.
Stripped
(Paint chipped words)
I won't journey over quicksand,
Darlin',
For any of it.
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