Bloomingdale’s

people moving in stores escalating
towards nothing they can see
I think of the face I fashion
I think of you
bound and gagged in black leather
pretty lips plastic thoughts
bound and gagged by a picture
in a glossy
magazine faces and smiles and lies
my thoughts are like a cloak
I change it with the wind
the way of the wind wary
hither through the hollow lands
the straw lands like thoughts all ablaze
my tongue stricken white ghost horror
at the mean words
like lady’s thighs smooth white
like my tongue my broken tongue
blood sucked out spit in out horror
at words meant
not realizing it at all
the hopelessness of hopelessness

I too am
bound and gagged
by you in black leather
trapped inside
the lie
in shadows
people move in stores
music plays

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