Final tandem,

A short leaf falls tall of an uneven shift,
patriots gleam fastily and steadily,
Marquees crash and tumble against her cheek.
while Her hands buried.
In his heart,
and in his soul,
he finds a taste of the old salty coal,
that grips his face like the grime of an old broken tub.
Seamless, it seems, no hands, no touch,
not much,
just muddled beneath his skin.
This is where she sits when placid thought passes between her.
Inside her.
Sliding, gliding, abiding, to her words,
he stands for her,
while she stands for hate.
Her hate has called upon his smiles,
a mile, from me, and you.
to you and me, unfree you seed,

That you fell short of an uneven shift.