You hold out
Your hand to me
Like some funeral pier
Doling me out
Keeping the flames
Away from your fire
Maybe it’s laughable
Me thinking this was
Anything possible
So stop your silence
Calm your highbred
You can’t stop
The thought traffic
Jamming in my head
You call me out
You fondle the wind
Like some restless child
The good doll kind
Smiling for the camera
Grinning from the pain
Maybe it’s passable
Me thinking this was
Nothing plausible
So stop your silence
Get off your high horse
You can’t calm
The thought traffic
Or it’s unstoppable force
Written by Barbara Doduk October 14, 1999