So, you thought,
it’s too easy
daily declarations
would enslave me.

Bounded, I breathed

in false strings,
warheads cloaked
with declarations
of straw love,

solar winds blow
ions into iridescence
and straw love’s bindings
tumble into nought,

I breathe
three, two, one …

the scent of freedom
almost unbound, soon …



An exclamation mark
between her eyebrows,
she asks him a question.

Gaslights sputter,
then glow brightly,
the room smells of rat.

She takes his rook with a look,
he caws like a self righteous bishop
in love with his mitre and robes.

He never cheats,
the gaslights dip.

A gold locket
floats in her palm,
she sees scales,
the gaslights go out.