You thrive on dancing in our laps before the more familiar chaps who know the curtain leads to fever
We watched a womanizer cry and in the last sip you and I declared we might require a breather
I am a truth’s true truant and I can feign excitement fluently as solidly as I can busk shock.
With well presented merriment and I know all too well I shouldn’t break the key off in the lock
The tumble splits the frame revealing silk and fits
in the fright lined dining room throw a gaze towards them while they feast
The days drag their heels when you’re not there to crack the whip
And the weeks wait to burst like a sachet of brats
The old pantomime villain follows my coat and he hides where it hangs and he spies through the slats
And meanwhile in the desert’s only costume shop the cowls hang and wait to rot away the identities of the willing
I’m back to sugar in the night, rocketing shutter doors despite the shop not opening for hours
You can itch, flap and whistle.
Try to avoid the tock
as I scribbled over drivel you were snoring showing off.
The tumble splits the frame revealing silk and fits in the fright lined dining room
throw a gaze towards them while they feast.