with the lions afoot
cloaked in twined robes
proportioned to thirsty trees
the moon’s about
the fickled sky
and i’d rather be off-beat and
vivid, swimming with the fish
forgetting that i am me
and he said
you look like you’re nearly together,
a perfect
jigsaw puzzle schoolgirl
amidst a crowd of
foolish carnivores
he said he wanted to
fit the pieces together
before they ate them all up
but he snacked
at midnight
on my every word
(i caught him a few times
the evidence around his lips
slightly smudged and on his wrist)
and he said
he didn’t get
why i stand alone
but can swim in a school
masked in night’s array
he said my mane
suits me perfectly
i said i dream
but
the word ‘perfect’
does not exist
with me
running with the lions
i never get anything done
i’d rather have pruned
multi-tinted scales
that crack and peel
in sun-drenched appeal
__________________ The Sun is Getting Dim, Will We Pay for Who We've Been?
