Immodest Heart (What you couldn’t see)

It is not me.

My mind reasons, same as yours

it counts the proper hours

and begs with my bones

for rest

Long day behind, long day ahead

 

But temptation, perhaps chided

by unjust disquiet

and derided

by jagged hours

may find it fitting

to hoist blame on my shoulders

wearied, same as yours

 

But please, my darling, resist

It is not me.

 

It is my immodest heart.

She.

A ruthless, raving lunatic.

Not me.

 

She wakes me from a settled sleep

shining her lamplight

to pick the pockets of my eyes

in dogged search of you

 

She.

Not me.

 

Who pulls me, limp

from back to side

and whispers in my ear

words that cut through reason’s brush

‘til she can tangle her breath in your hair

 

Cast your blame on her

And when your bleary finger

seeks to deliver its censure

don’t look my way

Turn your gaze inward to find her

dancing with your colluding heart

as they laugh

in the fog of our lurch

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