The Getaway

When I look back, over my shoulder, I see ours had to be the sort of love
That must be transitory, not standing like some brick wall stunning
Every faculty I had with your steel caress, staying with me like
A loaf of week old bread choked down without a jug of wine
Away from thou, to help me move it on, leaving me in meditation
On the creeping prep of colonoscopic time, and would I miss you
That question posed in sentimental utterance of old-time sappy rhetoric
The whispering nothings poured concrete, encased endearment
Conscript for life with tou the director knowing how to wring
The neck of truth from an author’s work, jerk tears from me
To fill up seven seas run higher than my ability to breathe
Like water for air, picture me bloated, a pucey chocolate hue
Bobbing on your tide of love for many days but finally found
Perhaps still identifiable as the one who almost loved then tried to lose you