shes fuzzy snoring and I am blurry writing in dim shade, dimmer thoughts,
about old faces and new ones,
of the black on your arm, the sweat on your brow when you were looking the other way.
light words that deflected heavy emotions left to bare.
It was dark enough so no one saw but me: there and naked and you: away and wrapped up
my hand on your face you're gone, your foot on my chest its too late
to get a cab
to get a bite
to get a second
to remember what I tried to forget

another night another drink another tip toe on the brink of forgetting
then you, tall and center with dark eyes straight through, draining what I had collected.
as if it were my fault to hold this love, to give this love, for trying to do the same for someone else.

I hate you for all the wrong reasons, and love you for all the right ones.
But these don't cancel each other out and make something beautiful in their joining.
It seems to make something distant and waning, something hungry and frustrated.
Just a picture on a profile and a message in the night, a passing of image to reignite the fire I put out to fall asleep.
I couldn't make this up