Published by admin on July 21, 2015

Radical Dishonesty


I remember sitting by the river bank one day with a woman.

Not just any woman, mind you.

There was history between this woman and l.


Teenage history–

with a gap the size of adulthood

between our past and

that moment,

on that rock along the river,

sitting peacefully

(on the outside at least).
Finally, I succumbed to the moment.

I leaned in and kissed her,

knowing that if I did,

she would stick around

long enough for me to make up my mind–

about us.


I kissed her and kept her in my back pocket–



Feeding her just enough hope

to stay for another day.


Radical dis-honest-y




and me.







  1. mandm93bracken
    October 25, 2015 - 5:23 pm

    Reblogged this on Which way is North?.

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