gentleman.

i see your images of folly
and circles of wisdom;
i see the route ahead
blocked and porous.
“how do you sleep at night?”
he asked with an intrusive,
political smile.
“what sort of cat
asks for supper before 10am?”
“what sort of fox
opens the door like a gentleman?”
lick his throat
and watch your fingernails
down her back.
watch the black liquid
pool and flood.

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