PIED-À-TERRE

I disregarded Eleanor,

She much regarded me,

Amidst the trope of our desire,

Discontinuity.

I dazzled her; she frazzled me,

We danced a rumba sheen.

But never found that comfort place

To right our wrongs between.

Too late, I flew a flag of truce,

Surrender in my eyes,

To find she’d fled our pied-à-terre

Defeated by our lies.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s