Poetry of Issue #8                                      Page 24

Budding Friendship

Now this former face in the crowd’s a voice with a distinctive tone structure. My casual asides are sentences she pins on me like subliminal charges. Her interrogatory air gathers fingerprints from the hand she’ll shake me down with for hormonal glands. I’ve hidden histories with discreet misdemeanors. Disjunctive idioms are beau conspirators she polygraphs for future use. Conversational exchanges give continuity to disparate measures. We’re a work in progress, a symphony in see where it goes from here, after she removes the slip from her sash register. I’m an unstrung gift box, flashing its contents, my house undress tailored to her surmise. My cup runneth over and she drinks deep or tastes not reverberating strings of my heart’s unsung measures. My furtive thoughts morph into phonemes, words and phrases, culminating in self-incriminating surrender. I’ve finished my sentence and, pigeonholed, I’m remanded to her cell, where I get time off for food behavior till her discernment ends.