“My favorite place.  Oh,
                    how I love you.”  And yet I wish it were not so.  It’s flesh colored here,
disguised in

                                                                 lusty glitter.  I want to
                                                                                       want more. A
                                                                                        wooer,true not
fellow-feeling.and what is more is
                                I’m betrothed.  I’m captivating but bewitching,
seducing, lovelorn and still devoted.  Like a spoiled child, I stay and play
when he bids me come away.  It’s a circus here but my appetite is such
                                               that
                                               the freak show turns me on..
I’ve run away to join but now I find I can’t
                                connect so when I’ve had my fill of flips and falls and
                                        tightrope acts, and all
                                       that is not gold, then I’ll return, head hung low,
forgiven.

poetry picnic