there is a drop of red on you finger tip and it is dripping down
to the floor under my feet
and leaving stains on the
carpet ants that trudge along
wearily but you don't notice with your blonde
long strands in front of your eyes that act as dividers make me a me and them a
them and you don't see the bars that confine you when you blow upwards
silly, its funny how easy it is to pretend and
how easy it is to see that you are pretending
i can pretend not to see
you pretend not to see
but its blatant in the way you adjust your socks
and the way your finger drips with your eyes so different
you've managed to keep it from yourself for this long
but now the squares are closing in and your
arms are too toenail paint lacquered to stand
clear of the closing
doors