Lonely

In the remainders. Weak diaphragms sputter out the moments in sour ballads more irony than truth. Could we separate them. The equation. In the distance between traffic lights. The chirp of lazy brakes. For miles we can't recall. Gowns off the rack wear our dubious proms. In dances we never shared. Songs as strange then as they are now.

You're my savior. And my Satan. You're the cacophony that proves there is music. I wish I could still hear. The dead things that made us alive.

The future in its calm restraints. Looking forward to the whip. Bad dogs in good cages. Worshipping the lock. Some oft repeated porno I can't learn to love.

The roots of the trees arguing with sidewalk. Winning. Despite where we step. The old man crying into his wine glass. I've been everywhere. And no place.

I've loved every woman I possibly could.

And they're all the same.