Your buttery words fatten my ears
with revolutionary promises
philosophies that endears.

get on my boat still
and claim you can ride?
boasting that has me swallowing
my pride,
perhaps to keep you?

talk is cheap!
and I’m not preaching voodoo!
or am I?

my one good eye
in my forehead
told me to write down
the whispers of
what goes unsaid.

time is my x ray vision to see through you.

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