Wrong Side


I can be sweet

as a prickly pear

cuter than a koala

bear, at my prickliest

a porcupine. Not a fine

feature, associated

with such creature whose

line you cross leaves you

with a pine or two

in your face.



Got work to do,

undo the threads

I hold like breath

and threaten

our closeness.

Bust open my closed

mess, destiny, cradle

you in my arms my child. 


Note: 2 more days left of my "write a poem a day" journey. Please donate and support independent, non-profit  http://tupelopress.wordpress.com/3030-project/

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