Somewhere written

A revivalist kissed
me once,
I nearly died.

Always a bridegroom
never a bride,
but these days
I don’t have to hide
in doorways.

Strange ways and not the prison,
just a prism through which we
scatter light
might imprison me,
but not today
or tonight
for I have plans made
to trade
Rizlas for razors and
and
tweed suits for tasers.

A revivalist kissed
me once
and
I can’t remember when.

© 2017, John Smallshaw.