I crashed
Even before I felt
For it was thought
That brought
My demise
I sure do surmise
Call me Sherlock
For I deduced
You would take
And you did—you took–
Grabbed
Pinched
Filched
Stole
My stroll
My step
My jump
A lump
In my throat
Don’t gloat
Young bloke
My pieces
I’ll put back together
So my heart
Becomes a rope
A tether
Knotted up
Into a noose
I can pull my head through
And choose to choke
On your scent
Hell bent
I was
am
still
thrill.
Copyright 2017: Jodi Leigh Miller