I, Plotter

I watch the the drear damp din
across the window cill
The weather is gunship grey

An English cliche

As my breath makes mean 'o's
on the pane
I plot
and
seethe with overwhelming
spleen

I resolve to make a plan
plain enough with
pain enough
to punish

I'm buoyed by brevity
audacity in action
he never would have
thought me brave
gumption

The 'new' me leaves
lip autographs
on slimy glass
forensics no doubt
will be grateful
that I blew a frozen kiss to my
darling sweetheart bastard

The game has begun forward
I know the rules
this time...