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Clyde

Fact or Fake

The sun’s heat

Reached its peak

The day she ran.

Bare feet leaving holes

In the story he told,

Of late romance

In the woods

With ghosts and space

Fabricated face

And imagined form

Beside a fire glow.

A tale too far

Gripping in word

Lacking in spirit,

Spinning yarn,

Meant to ensnare

A virgin’s innocence.


She made an escape,

Eclipsing Bonnie and Clyde.

A free heart

At sea in desert.

As he boasted

Of stolen pride

And false coupling

To convinced ears.

The winter sun’s heat

Reached its peak

As he fried

For guilty enjoyment

And she burned

For the lies of a fool. 

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Clyde
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