night air mutters through the window
blowing notes bending by the tip of the bottle
i lust for with the intensity of
the misses i've chanced recently,
according to the same boredom,
drawn out to fit to a T and
nagging me in conversational tangents and daydreams.
blame me for believing, for having at it like
an old romantic, for doing and thinking
the type of stuff that won't be in style
maybe ever again. grinning and grooming,
soaking in the anticipation of what would
turn out to be most definite failure, another night of not
measuring up, untwisting the gentle letdowns from
the sweet flowery embellishments of their packaging.
she's still looking to the sky, or something.
no one seems to get theirs in this economy--i should know. but i never will.
thank you, ma'am, it's time to go--i guess you've been too kind. now watch me fade
beyond your hills, this sweet horizon line
No comments:
Post a Comment