We fucked. As loud as we could. Hammers coming down on the sheets. Breaking gods in half. Limericks of Solomon as sharp as dial tones. To keep it in pieces or to lose it whole. The servitude of choice becoming clear.
Her eyelids in shambles. Betrayed by his hesitation. Road maps she'd drawn prematurely spilling the dark of her happiness all over her cheeks. In tides of mascara thinned by tears. The color of her lipstick devouring the smile once on her face.
Crawling into her bed gloat by gloat of the addiction. Closing the curtain on all things.
Turning to the tide for a reason it keeps coming back. It doesn't say, but I know it's thinking I haven't been listening.
The bachelor in his leather coat. Purring harmlessly.
The princess sleeping on her pea.
The future on its clearance rack. Waiting for us to find the big bargain.
Tuesday
7/31/2007 12:36:00 AM
Sad Labels:
hyperbole
,
introspect
,
loneliness
| Life Poems |