Full moon feigned indifference,
illuminates no reason into tears.
Eat again, comforts in the cold surface,
roaring spite rapidly adding figures
to this placid thorn.
Black bourbon, pulsating eye, infra-red
destination - a neon sign possession,
detached reaction.
I just want to take it off.
I should let you know
body and spirit are
still far apart -
I think it would have
turned out this way
sooner or later, trembling negative.
I remember a time I
almost told you what you really want -
remember? Remember?
It's still waiting for you, tender, alone.
We almost looked at each other and
I couldn't even let myself think.
Now I don't feel
what we're doing is the truth.
Are we going to be together?
I almost had you, this way.
Your voice, words written with a cigarette,
love overcome with character,
my secrets on cassette tape - you probably noticed.
The dance, lights low, a strange dream
green with ambient sound - I'm so bored.
You could drive off,
rear brake lights into a
soft tune, intimately plain.
But no; tell me what you noticed.
Let me tell you about this room,
this music, the emotions I don't believe.
I'm going to teach you a lesson now
about empty footsteps and
keys to the night.
I know you saw something
out of frame, a damaged moment.
Say something about this,
the metabolism of silence,
visible momentum.
I heard you in the corner,
heavy perfume,
speaking weak, pale,
lying to establish your composure.
Spin loud, protecting your face.
I know this is gonna hurt you.
Hands white-knuckled,
I've got to write myself
an ecstatic state,
fists stunned into a poem.
Clench the brightening aspiration;
the path has its limits,
slips back sometimes.
My patience is minor, my hurt clear,
only tolerant of need when
there is a second beauty
to its eye.
There's no need to come back
after this.
Your truth, invisible;
I am obligated to contain
the nature of fire,
rebellion established
within a bow:
may the Lord make us
truly thankful
for what we are
about to become.
Across the table
knife taps glass.
Our own structure
undeterred, necessary fact
surrounding the bounds of
silence, golden eyes.
We become quieter
when taken in many ways.
My dear friend:
that smile,
your face,
little performance a
murdered coincidence.
I asked you not to go back;
I was sad. You were lost
years ago. A stunt, I'm assuming.
Disturb en masse;
money wouldn't have done anything.
We decided brutally, suddenly,
scrubbing at evacuation.
You were close but cold, mocking
what I happened to mention.
