Uncontested Will

I thought integrity was vigorous.
The prelates left their clothes here
in a pile. When will the getaway car
be washed again?

It's been so long, since I believed
legerdemain was there to hold me.
Brush the crumbs off the end table,
will you,
I inquire.

No breathmark and no answer
anymore. The sky looks tired.
A pink, feathery yield of loom
becomes absorbed into

dark background, and by evening
every daylight shifts to fiction.
Affection turns come-as-you-are,
as I begin discovering myself again.