Tasting you through the bastion you set up
Need progresses farther; lightning in a slingshot
slip does just that, to the floor

yours tastes like it was waiting for mine
a cool rendition of heated cinnamon cherry soda
perfume dulled by the sweat of excitement
none of which carried the least bit of warning

Stand still let time do the walking for you
give up the rest, retreat
perhaps then we’ll spread apart
the fiction keeping us from our…

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Photograph by David Olkarny

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Lord Bison

Jazz-soaked spirit running circles around despair...or something like that. Really. Lover of words, lover of being in worlds New Yorker, artist, Virgo besieged by airhead tendencies akin to Libra moves. Bronx is home base. Began an obsession with writing at seven and twenty-odd years hence, still at it. Enjoy/love/hate/be bored/appreciate to your heart's content. Or something like that.

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