Feigner

My own private alley
is not for parking
ideas unless they’re going

in reverse. New words
to my ears tumble
from your mouth

to tempt me to pretend
to fall from an open window.
You who won’t trespass

against me—will you
catch me on the way

down?

Will the ivy on brick
tie us together
for a moment? I close

all blinds on the east side.

Leave a comment