The Brandy Chronicles (a sequel)

I am fighting the inclination to add this to the poem in my forthcoming collection. For now, I present it as a continuation…

Sipping hasn’t done much good:
the bottle is empty
my mouth is on fire

I still have feelings

I really do enjoy the taste
with or without embellishment
I like the way it goes down

If my tongue were honey coated
I’d still be asking for more—
can’t stop ’til I get enough

She parades before me
in a ripped-up, handmade dress
from years and pixels ago

Benevolent if she were to smack me
in the heat of the music
rumbling electric from the stage

I would awake for her
I would ache for her
(though I know I’m too late for her)

But if she were to lay her hands upon me
I would float in place
kiss her face from afar

What she wrenches from me
can’t help but break free
into a hurricane sky

the wind made roundabout
around an axis of calm
where I can sleep through the storm

that reminds me I’m alive

(13 December 2015)

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