This has got to die

yes

with one lip curled upwards
and eyes piercing the empty air
green lasers
shooting down
me

you're a hero
smashing every piece
of fine china
delicate to the bone

and cradling
your cuddly crocodile
close

and just smiling
to yourself
at the world
weaving its faithless
tricks
in blind fervour

such a pretty pink

and the water runs dry

what a great book

and the phone lines break

delightful meal

and the chill settles

and the inexorable distance

builds space

interminable waiting

creates calm

leashed longing

leans lazily

on a bed of indifference

and a pair of cool white teeth

beneath the grimace

conjure a confused

chuckle

thou shalt be thine own worse enemy

if thee cannot be thine own best friend

still thinking

this has got to live?