the late latencies

suckers only pour out their revenge in front of your face.
a blatant jacket of red, still wearing the tag.
explaining the punchline, pre-joke [what a joke]
harboring their fear until it’s released. an 18-year-old-boy coming too quick while his older girlfriend sighs with defeat, remembering that one time in the back of that fast, black mustang. a pivot of innocence.
suckers speak with speed. a turn before the move of a win to only see defeat. shortsighted eagerness. the fast retaliation of a woman scorned. a know-it-all-frequency. saw-tooth waves.

while i
wait behind the truth. peering around the corner like a kid during summer break. wide eyes knowing the sun is going down, but safe with a mom who is ok that her hands are dirty, but in time, for dinner.

and i let obvious indications speak for me, instead. structures of ideal victories. a firework show of reasons why i’ve been right this whole time.

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