the rhythm of dante renamed


for aew and mhc

verbally deliberate almost cautionary, juxtaposing

screaming eyes with the scent of nervousness on his lips

which were quick to part with stories remembered

instilled yet unwritten only to be revised myths

no one listened to anymore


never believed it was hip to be hood

only hopped to keep up with the rat race

realized the finish line was only for the sheep

he had no wool and wouldn’t

no sir, so

he just had her

she listened to the tales of vampirism

ivory wolves with a knack for shape shiftin

sniffin blood red roses in granny’s garden

she wasn’t offended

he was intimidated by her energy

so he fled

life can throw curves liked unspoken words from leaky pens

writing blurred truths believed without proof

offended she was by her own judgment

too damn late to recant

there’s no closure

case is closed

sentenced to life

listening for the pauses between deliberate words

© michele mitchell, 2014


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