Breakfast with the Gestapo

I saw you there. uptight in your way, waving your white flag like an admittance of disaster. he didn't seem to notice. instead, his glass-speckled eyes roll over you slow like a snail, the slime of his stare glossing you. i could have turned and gone, could have looked away, not said a word of this to anyone. instead the tears fell and turned tumbles inside my stomach, and words fell out and away as calendar pages of a year gone too quickly. i never gave way to their push and shove. the waiter brings the check, you sip your lemon-wedge water, and i.......i whisper something about the force of a thousand prayers.

"hope to tell the secret I have learned. Till then, it will burn inside of me."

Amor Vincit Omnia

"Pretty things.....so what if I like pretty things?"