Acid Almost

Half-assed, regretful... love?

Acid Almost

Sneaky comfort. Wily content.

Shadowed by dark arguments.

Justification found in stability,

Awkward positions without shameless agility,

Pull tiny tears in the used silk,

Which antagonizing devalues.

 

Love; that puzzle piece.

That almost fits, and could pass for real.

That love; that tardy ex with an,

Uncomfortable scent - who stares,

At the far corner of the ceiling.

 

Swallowing half-assed smiles...

Will ruin your appetite.

 

Gee-ima-try vs. geometry.

That novice circle, that near parallel.

Bent love that  lost its perfect and ethereal line.

Doomed to wander and wallow in shifting sands.

The dunes never reform,

They retire slowly,

Downwards,

Pulling you farther from the cool stars.

 

A hint of a taste of a feeling of a once been,

A chuckle of a grin of a snicker of that feeling,

Leaves you undone and hungry,

When you lay in the dark.