You wrap yourself
around my words
Send them back in plastic bags
Cut my sentences in thirds
Covet them like dirty rags

Put my poetry in bottles
Smash them on my bedroom wall
Leave me with a pile of glass
Enough to build a mirror ball

The light reflects our past neglect
Nonsense we recall as facts
Some tit for tat of give and take
A structured play inside three acts

You change the color
Of your skin
From take me back to go to hell
A shade of pale like Anne Boleyn
A cold embrace in warm pastels

A sharp contrast of here nor there
Some bold excuses you may find
Borrowing a dream or two
Stealing colors from my mind

Just one last change
and then you’re gone
Blending into someone new
Makes me think it’s me alone
as you split your time in two

Or three or four it’s nothing more
than lies disguised as pretty lines
to tie my tongue as ladder rungs
to climb as vines inside my mind

Changing colors once again
Orange sunshine
Crimson stain
Matters little in the end
All your colors turn to pain

TM DiSarro

©2020 TM DiSarro/Mindscapes Publishing

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