Your love blindsided me from the start.
You’ve got it down pat, like an art.
Here I am again, surprised.
This time, by my demise.
Sucker punched, gut shot.
I’m on the ropes.
Count it down,
ten, nine…
out!
About the Creator
Randy Baker
Poet, author, essayist.
My Vocal "Top Stories":
* The Breakers Motel * 7 * Holding On * Til Death Do Us Part * The Fisherman
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A Love Forboding
The chipped stone slope caused unbearable footing. I slid, skirting on my heels. I cast my shield, relinquishing my guard to stay upright. Left with my double-edge and a prayer to the maker, I skated toward my objective. The earthly stubble gave way to solid ground. I found myself restored, a trail of dust in my wake.
By James U. Rizzi4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (6)
Very finely done, the analogy really works!
Awesome, I love it
Such passion!!
Amazing
on a roll today sir!
Oh, I like this one!