Ace of Clubs

The fireworks in July over a lake aptly named.
You kicked me away I kept floating back through
the crossroads and the key card office.
We shared secret smiles. Maybe you thought
you were the only one. Maybe you wanted to hurt
me. The fourteenth day in July reminds me of a night now far back in memory when your scent drove me mad and I knelt down before you and paid my respects to your heritage needs crimes and your religion. You called my work plastic but you believe you are in control I know something else has the wheel on this one. The die has been cast. Everything in flux. Here comes the harbinger of change.


'like sturring dat gumbo, baby. 'ventually settles.'