Tuesday, November 2, 2010

of knives and knees and one set of keys

in the dark,
my spine would cringe.

i'd flinch.

my feet would fail me.

and just the once
as i hit the ground,
i found your knife-

the shadows showed up,
they were never late
-that's not the point-
i wiped the blood from my face
and discovered that it
wasn't me that was bleeding

so i guessed-
took a stab in the dark,
you could say.

now, i digress...
but only because i must.
only because,
you have said it all.
now you must bask
in the plot lines.

there is no argument.

no shelter from shade.

no place hidden enough,
to turn the key
without someone noticing,
that the knives you stabbed
in everyones back,
were the knees you used
to emphasize plight.

bent like crooked letters
written about close calls,
commonplace, and con-artistry.

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