Be The Part

Walk the room in a waltz-like mode
With heels and a tote, your lip gloss in a smear
The garden, then, was at the back of the house
Where we spend our days in some calculated abandonment
All while baking cakes
Reading journals of dystopian vision
While I cut your bangs
Now, now I do nothing
Nothing much for you
It’s all over now
Walk backwards toward the gate while I look away


Photo Credit: Arman Dz. Flickr via Compfight cc

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