I built the strings
That allowed me to
Twiddle my fingers
With a questioning pose
I studied the strings
Crossed my knees justly
Pointing my eyes
To all these and those
A man who had strings
Came up beside me
Turning his head
With that jittery tic
He pulled his arm up
And wrapped it around
Smiling with eyes
Rolling marbles that click
His strings mimed voices
And carried a smile
Like a
silent picture that moves
All stuccoed
heart and fair
He jawed
out his promises
Of love
and of truth
Like no
scissor no knife
Would cut
his strings bare
His strings weren’t made of
Truth and trust
Weren’t comprised of
Fearlessness and care
He was a man who used
His strings as a trap
Not a beautiful orchestra
But a jolting snare