Much Better Than Cats

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Making amends in a relationship, acting like things aren't as bad or good as they really are...it's hard to keep a grip on yourself or reality under such conditions

Submitted: June 10, 2007

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Submitted: June 10, 2007

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Much Better Than Cats


The dead she plays
These days, isn't it funny
How off-script she strays?
Seven years missing cues, honey!

This daze, it isn't funny.
Though we share a snicker,
Cue to seven years missing honey
Thick sweetness of our tincture.

We'd be sheared, though a snicker
Saves us against being skinned.
Sweet, of our thick tinctures,
There's no drink for sinned

Against saviours we've skinned.
Passion play for passionless
There's no drink for sin
Or foreseen in rehearsed redress.

Playing passion for passion, lest
Scripted.  How oft she strays,
Unseen and unheard.  We dress
The dead for our play.


By R P Webster

June 11, 2007


© Copyright 2020 shabbycurragh. All rights reserved.

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