Some Impossible Pass

And she with beetle eyes squinted at 24 font words
blown into infinity,
betrayed the poem by laughing in irony of her actions
and asked me to beat a confession
but she didn’t know that I was the poet,
burdened by inability to comply
because these words beg a friend and
she was a chalkboard s***, romancing every line into its secrets
and I could have spoken mine,
could have spoken my life,
but instead I partake in surrender.