appearances, appearances..

write of what you want 
make the road go.
you’re the real ribbon.
no more excuses.

tie the package together,
and if there is only air inside,
smile and take it to the fête.

wear shoes that clash.
don’t wash your hair
(white to a wedding not
your own).

what does it matter
if you were seen naked, riding the
moon three nights ago to a climax,
or if that was you
wantonly splayed across the fence of a new lover’s last stanza..?

….it’s called poetic license.

appearances, appearances..

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