Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Goodnight


Predawn's hues bruise a perfect black night on the wrong side of sunrise.

Tomorrow comes chasing spells away.


Fingers touch. Warmth lingers. Music fades.

Midnight shadows stain his cheeks and sooty eyes on the wrong side of sunrise.


His smile's moonlit curves fade under pastel clouds where she wakes to emptiness and nothing, drenched in sunshine.


------------


Sometimes I don't write much and would rather tune out.

I skip the words on a page because I don't want to see what's in my head, and all our heads -- the piercing wishes and desires unbound from decency, running free. Don't we all carefully tailor our thoughts? Isn't good writing about trading that tight fit for passion?

Either way, I would rather drink wine tonight.


Lily is curled at my feet with her nose under her tail. She is warm, loved, and asleep. Good girl Lily.


No comments:

Post a Comment