A Sinister Mood


Uncertain reason
but hope is in season.
Loop your tired feet
around the rungs of my chair.
Lay your body down
and your soul bare.
Let temperate moods wind you up.
Fill your hands with lust
for  your coffee cup.
Shy virtues, hidden well
thinking you found heaven,
the view from your cell.
Catch my expression
misunderstand
This flipped finger
is getting out of hand.

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