Retreat

Headlights arch across a darkened street,
a retreat into the safety of the bushes.

A car pulls up the drive,
its lights go black.
Two people exit ,
he and you.
You approach the door,
enter the home,
a light switch
a shadow
inside,
he and you.

The vapor of breath,
still night air,
shivering from cold blood
nervousness .

Drawn closer,
nightmarish,
retreat to the bushes.

Heaving,
dry heaving,
no food for days.

Drawn closer,
Drawn closer,
“fuck you”!

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Filed under outlaw poetry, poetry

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