There’s No Faulting Mea Culpa

I annotate your face

Wrinkles lead to depth

And cutting off your nose feels

To me like a little death

That I always come back from

Ears touch the ground

Leading to smiles all around

Blinking on and off feels

To me like being lost

Then found and back again

Foreground sweat from your forehead

And putting your neck out feels

Like steam is being collected

So we can crack a walnut

With a glass hammer

 Violence is golden or so says the wishing well

Tie them up and hold on tight

A brick won’t float but two coins rubbed together might

A naysayer agrees with both of you

Even though they’re evenly split views

Chew on your dummy and spit out tobacco

I can’t believe I’ll ever breathe again after your chokehold

But that’s the price you pay for being a lion tamer

Where the beasts are pointed at but never named


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