Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: 12 Degrees.\ Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Saturday 2/25/2006 09:05:00 PM

It was still early, but it had been dark all day. So it was like I never really woke up. Just slept through everything. One dream melting into the next. It was real. But not the real you can smell. Garlic sauteing. Extra saliva.

Not the real you can feel hours before you actually touch. Skin salivating.

It's always early if you stay up late enough. Night sneaks into morning with a quiet lisp. One more. And one more after that.

And there you are not changed at all, but everything else is.

It's always late if you sleep long enough. Trace the scale of the covers as they decide you. One more outline in a parade of so many.

Colors turn inside out as they try to remember who we were.

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