Friday, December 22, 2006

hangover.

old dog
you were left by your master
remember once
i was told to be
earning as such righteousness;
though pain
is grasping firm
smooth as a woman's skin,
it leaves a hangover
so full
to attain peace.

my joy,
you lay there
you tell me
be the light so timid
i would think of only mourning,
i would have it warm
and embracing.
ill use it as my cloak,
walk distances,
drink to the last sip,
none would care,
it leaves a hangover
so full
it never matters i am alone.

eyes half open
tears rinse this distress,
it awaits the dramatic
and too sentimental,
seeing the dust,
seeing the past..
ill have more of what could be
then ill come back,
left with a hangover
so full
its named after you:

the need
to taste a bullet.
lips and thighs
pierced by her eyes...

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