Too old for foolish games. |
Tonight I am an asymptote, approaching levelness, but not quite achieving it. Because I tried to mend the fence, I tried to make nice, I extended an olive branch by sending two texts at first, and then phoning, leaving two conciliatory messages, saying good things like, “I think the world of you,” and, “I regret the events of the last two days” [a lover’s spat wherein temper was lost (mine) and where insults appeared in text (hers) ] and this and that, an allotrope of emotions, good, bad, up, down, inside out, sideways--forming in the minds of two nighttime ships...but like anionic particles that wend the microscopic world, I feel the charge as she no doubt also feels the charge, yet text was all she sent (apology all right, yet cold is script without a voice, and thus I called, but got no voice...) an olive branch begins to wilt as sun has set and silence reigns. Henceforth I steam and now there is arraignment here, (trust was so misplaced), thinking apology is flimsy wobbly specter. Ignoring is crude in rusted drums. Ignorance, or cowardice? I know not which, but either one is enough to convict. 30 Lines Writer’s Cramp 4-16-16 ______ Requirements --asymptote --allotrope --anionic --arraignment |