from my eyes each time I see you walking
with some guy who’s not me. And when you smile
at him and sit at Starbuck’s, start talking
with such focus, I feel blood pour like bile
from my ears, frantically wipe it clear,
wishing he was me. I import some sense
of your slight perfume even though not near
you, and my head throbs, my body intense
as blood clots, my nostrils feeling warm flow
of crimson fluid we all require. Tell
the medics to stay alert but lie low.
I’ll simply bleed in silence. Seems I fell
through the right continuum but the wrong
hour, simply bleeding as I write this song.
Roger Armbrust
August 17, 2011
