Timid Contractor

 

 

 

 A  day,

fabricated by post practice laze

and sighs drawn out as long as possible,

 

We were sitting on a high jump mat in the 

middle of a concrete circle, the whole

scene assembled like a Dionysian

Theater; appropriate for our journey that was

about to begin, wrapped in as much heat

as our throbbing emotions.

 

The once red pad lazily slept on the rough

surface, now drained by the 

weather of body after body crushing its

innards repeatedly until it was honed 

enough to buttress our growing compassion.

 

A glimmer from the flaming distress

of the falling day catches the rim of my sun glasses

that I wear to complete my false fortress of apathy.

Without them it seems the very depths of my 

 glee would burst from my well constructed

kingdom and envelope you, drowning your less

convincing cottage in a deluge. Though your 

thoughts are built no more superior than my own,

you open your shutters more willingly.

 

I knew my dam would crack, but not this soon. 

The frame is raised as you set the final

bulwark upon my doubt. I look straight through

your impediment and can read those hazel

hindrances easier than you think.

Then apparently casually, though more carefully 

than any action yet committed in my existence, 

lower my hand to yours and confirm this new 

contract. 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Rachelah]

I am thrilled at your return. If you looked at my page, you would see how very much I have posted.
This seems to be about a girl I happen to know. I think we both know her. In fact, I am sure we do.
Regardless, your mastery of metaphors has always amazed me.
Those slippery buggers always get the best of me.
But I suppose I am meant to say things straightforward.
Regardless, I am glad you are back.