The Beat

I feel for you——-sideways
Looking
Out of a corner
Ghost like a song like a song
Twice
Or more three times but
Only that even
It doesn’t matter won’t forget
It’s a weakness of mine.

Can it be
Simply not possible
Maybe fourth of all expanse of
There’s never being home
For dinner
Never cold skipping out we’re
Out till dawn
Sweet as ever as anything but
Worrying doesn’t get anyone anywhere

Life is sideways though
The beat
Of it swells in glorious circles
That I have memorised for you
Looking directly
At a portrait in profile
Like a song it comes around
But ends always
In the middle

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Frankie Mace was born. She writes poems. ACAB.