Cathy

Our day is just beginning, i dance arms out wide, Burbo Bank is full of swimmers, she kills me with her thighs, next to me like a bride, she twists her twisted smile, a constant cigarette brimming, drips blue water at my side, a writer for the losers, I won’t say she’ll survive, her likes don't cross the line, like ships upon the tide, she isn’t called for giving, never understands a mother’s why, but doesn't want to sin, i could demand many things, Medea would use the knife, but why when you can sing, just praise the time.