Spare Change

this sad poem is about lateral choices and the limits of skin. 

alcoholicpoet.com

time drew its knots. eager orphans shed their skins.

the slope wore our voices. in stuttering salves. as if this disease has a cure.

we spun the math. manic architects trapped within our own walls.

our conspirators defeated by the astringent anatomy of touch.

the terrain choked on the remnants of our choices.

we conceded to gravity. perpendicular to shame. eager to fall.

our tethers strained. our collars chafed. as the world expanded without us. 

we bargained with the wolf. 

earnest carpenters of houses made from straw. 

Filed under: Sad Poems September 2024