Maybe you're a sore spot.
Not a bruise
but a tender place
that whenever stoked like a fire,
I remember you're there- you were there.
Not hiding behind a combination padlock.
An expression of an original Jackson Pollock
Head cocked
You're flexed
I'm perplexed
and stretched
out and impressed
that this entangled Tango dance
in my mind can prolong itself
and withstand dilution after 5 years of length.
What is even happening anymore?
Stained emotions of my own, before me.
Consistently even.
Irrationally
and simple fascination.
~Tina Meeks
