i lightly caress
the tip
of that mike
As if I was
about to sing
your yet unwritten
silent
s
o
l
o
instrument naked—
my voice
about to tickle
Your well-versed skin
and enticingly
bite on your
unsuspecting
earlobe
A mascara tear
drops
and blurs
the mirrored image of
our
i
m
a
g
i
n
e
d
coexistence
the one that will never
be read aloud—
same as my solo
will never ever get sung
it was
your one and only
a capella kiss
yet that night
you chose
not to
l
i
s
t
e
n
to my naked
notes
that bleeding
nightsong
LannaZee 