mallomar

you said a vow with a bullet,
with burden and a bell-shaped mouth
rising out of the inelastic grip
of a two-toned, three piece suit

not from poverty or pain

not from hatred or injustice

just an alarming indifference;
from boredom and between
the ribcage of a lovely, ordinary stranger

oddly drawn in by the moon and many
silly little things: the tidal pull
or how the mississippi whispers
in the starlight

how your hair is just an inky willow
streaming over milkwhite skin

---

you stumble, restless
on