When my eyes are worn red
like an old hotel carpet
that’s when I know I love you most

When my pride is a yipping lap dog
in the company of lions
my roar overwhelms them with you

You are my Achilles
You can be my Delila
just always be proximal

I beg of you, to allow me to stay near
or make me drink with Socrates
and lull my pain to blissful sleep



3 Responses to “proximal”

  1. Bryan Borland said

    Okay. Those first three lines might by my favorite lines you’ve written. Such a great image – old hotel carpet… and damn if it didn’t make my eyes hurt!

    Nice work!

  2. Diana He said

    I love your poems! stumbled upon the site while looking up verba volant scripta manet – possible tat phrase ha. this is my favorite poem on the page. looking forward to reading more!

    • Vic said

      Diana- Thanks for your kind words! Please leave a comment the next time you visit to let me know what you think.
      Bryan- Compliments coming from you, make me proud.

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