Sadomasochists - Poem by L'Angley S Delmonte

Hurry
The telephone is ringing
Please put it down
Hang it up
Before he (on the other end)
Can raise inquiries

Breathe
The words are gushing
From your swollen lips like
Scarves
From a magician's stately jacket (red like the tent)
They just keep coming

Come
The dirt road is tapering
Off and we have to stay
Here
With this inordinately innocuous innkeeper (and his wife)
Bed, breakfast, and we leave, nomadic

Here
In the middle of
The aisle I'm standing
But
The voices are too loud (like mission bells)
They don't make sense

Stop
Please, cease if you won't slow
Have you ever
Had your heart
Pound rhythmically, too fast to keep up with (like bass beats)
And
They
Never
Ever
Stop?

Poems by L'Angley S Delmonte

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