Bring Me the Battlefield

I'm moving out of the city
and into the Fall,
after all
it's only the faults & lines in myself
and every woman I've ever loved
that I have folded the map
and ended up inside the hat.

I could blow you into submission
with kisses
but such kindness might be depraving.
The sigil? The misses
is going to catch the alarm clock
and hit snooze
several dawn's into now
or until the day
subsides into night
and the light is vanquished
from out of your pores.

Poor fellow, You,
straddled along the line
and counting on a new dollar bill.
"The money won't save
you from your electric bill,
you must work
far harder than crimson
or the black flags
that ripple across your heart."

My new genius
comes in the way
I abandon all hope
for a love that learns
from starting all over again.

A single golf clap? Or a long standing ovation?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.