Off Beat

How broken those with blue hearts
who embrace only poison breezes.

I dance rhythmless,
lingering on an almost stout word

men need cool from voices
baby, girly, cat, no eternity fare

I devour the salty note
bit life surrounding that din.

(Fridays are magnetic poetry)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

10 thoughts on “Off Beat

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