Between Three Sheets

We're better off in hiding.

Three sheets of lightning tucked away

In linen closets

Of what we had to say.

          Bursts of light

          Blanketed over the night

          Perfectly timed

          To render discerning eyes

          Delightfully blind.

Clamp the vision of yesterday

In a tight grip

And let it drip

Through knuckled fists


          He's all wrapped up

          In resentment

          Writing stories about

          Your wickedness relentless..


          A dynasty of contrast

          From scratch

          So long as you last.

Three sheets of thunder

Folded up

And tucked under a bed.

Cacophonic booms loaded up

To be later unleashed

In scorn for what he bled...

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