Bottled

It seems he caught another case of jungle fever,
had to feed his wood to a little black beaver.

Who will it be to cut that wood of his down?
(play me a fool and I’ll be your clown)

Brought back into the game of Decepticon
Love is fleeting … will soon be gone.

Ever so patiently I will torment myself
these memories, too, will be placed on the shelf
in their own uniquely twisted bottle
that I will covet and will coddle.

But eventually, it will be
just another dust collector.