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
beckons,
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.
Marousia 