Monday, March 5, 2012

(junk-pile / procrastination / the enticement of her skin - or, simply,) my sweetheart’s drunk again

the creaking fan sings it
bright out
loud
why haven’t you finished yet?
it’s a simple thing
to finish
what is already so near
completion
old brass blades are staring through
the bars
at me
and it’s true that there
is no excuse
friday night and already
my mind is buzzing
with the failure
of a another week down
the drain
gurgling it’s nasty
addiction
to living
every day
life
while the dreams stack up
in huge piles
in an ever
fading
light
like the dishes
by the sink
and the bottles by the door
you came here tonight
again half drunk
and tossed your shirt
onto the floor
and again it felt like
springtime
not this winter
anymore
until we were laying there
in the damp
moonlight
and i came down to this
encore
a fan quietly whirling
and the subtle living breeze
and your body rests beside me
and the brass blade
questioning
where were you as the night fell
and all those precious moments missed
why haven’t you finished
your masterpiece
and all the things upon your list?
i guess it falls
just number two
behind her sultry bliss
the polarizing
light hits hard
with every drunken kiss
and i only hope
the dreams i left
don’t grow
jealous
of her
skin
lying there
in the moonlight
while i
waste
this
time
again….

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