past crumbled crushes
beneath south high,
riding on poses and prose
honed in men's room mirrors,
i followed where you said
where you led
(to your bed)
i bathed in your
newborn cracks and crevices,
i slept nude, unfettered
in your flowing field of
golden blonde,
our wednesday drunk
ran highest reeds,
a sonorous cadence
of nervous laughter
and curious fingers.
our eyes averted
to morning windows
and static screens,
we wrote off
our crow's nest
of four letter words
(which one best blankets
what we've laid to rest?)
a rush, a glance,
a kiss, a beat,
we split the street
(your move,
move on?)
your toe tap prance
ignited lights,
i crept a roach's pace,
back to the cracked concrete,
back to the bar
we both despised.
(forward seven months)
my favorite record's on
your favorite scent's on tap.
i'm too gone to leave
you're too good to go.
last year's last night
unfolds between
our tense exchange,
your layover's on layaway,
i still can't pay this tab.
you hide a grimace beneath your grin,
i fly my white flag
at half mast.
(i'll never see you again,
don't see me like this)
bookends break,
embraces fake fidelity,
i still taste you.
(forward seven months)
you outshine the lights
that greet your
graceful entrance,
you upstage the arch
that frames your game,
you're a goddamn angel.
and i'm still here,
still gluttoning this barstool,
and singing off key in my beer.