Hostages

Hostages

A sweet note
beats a slipknot.

*

This is not what you’d expect of lovers,
but everything you’d dread
when two poets lose their heads
and fumble for rope
to hitch up their hearts.

*

A slip of the tongue, let’s call it,
set the scrub fowl gouging
and your trust continues to cave.

*

I wrote you a ransom note. Or three.
I offered to remove your blindfold free-of-charge
but you like the dark.

*

Your notes are passionfruit –
tough skin, poor results from attempts
but when I finally cut you open,
harmonies spill onto my lips.

*

That’s not me slipping a knot
into your noose, lover –
I’m behind the guards, singing your innocence,
wanting you free.

*

I am beaten, you have slipped,
and as with every hangman’s noose,
it’s too tight to loosen.
But I’m on my way with a knife
and passionfruit on my tongue,
and this is everything you’d expect
of a poet
who is useless with rope
but expert at cable-tying
words around your heart.

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About sandrathibodeaux

Poet and Playwright
This entry was posted in Miscellaneous Poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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