Art of the chase

Eyes bleary

hair greasy

rolled out

waiting for a

carriage

it’s like

they don’t want

you to try

she circles me

like a blind

shark

eyes rolling back

for teeth

and jaw

to fire forward

but half asleep

I’m not enthralling

prey

I don’t dance

in the waves

like I’m meant

so she

slips

away

starving.

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