A crack in the armor and all my years don’t seem so significant.
Let the light slip through and wash the mud from your eyes.
Slipped through your fingers,
gelled on the tile floor.
One last time I’ve brought you to your knees.
Atom bomb line dance and words are collateral damage.
I’ve got something real important to say someday soon.
Leggings damp from frustration,
I won’t be shattered here.
Maybe another time you’ll see me pause to let you speak.
Constant epiphanies and a five hour thought process;
makes a little, makes a lot.
I won’t be shattered here.
One last time I’ve brought gifts to your door.
Maybe another time you’ll hear the bell.
