mute

she’s getting away from you
and you stew at the lewdness
of it all
secure in your insecurity
demured to the muse of uncertainty
mute like  archibald’s plumbs,
with your thumb up your ass
and sucking the nub,
dumfounded
at what you’ve found in the dumps,
confounded and wound up
well rounded and rolling,
bound nowhere

c. 2001, 2008 Evan Gilling

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