I'm tired so tired
of the guitar on your side of the bed
the cat's sweet purr
next to my head
I am weary of distances
far and in between
the wall to wall spaces
left in my hardest heart
and when i close my fist
as the sixty mile an hour wind
whips by me
out the car window
its your hand i'm holding
when our apocalypse descends
o sweet mercy
give me a tale i can believe in
of you and me and sweet california sun
give me your lips and a taste
of the never ending kiss
give me back
my saturday nights
give me back
the ten minute to takeoff call
whereupon you opened my door
i leapt upon that hard body
and stayed thus until we had to breathe again
give me back
my clean shower
and snowy sunrise
give me back
sister rosetta in the middle of the woods
give me back
all those beats of beasts
and the way we used to dance
give me back
all my romance
give me
give me
o lend mercy sweet shelter
a place for my heartache to die
and my lips to live ever after
1 comment:
Give me back,
my apocalypse.
My breaking.
My whirlwind of
shaken not stirred but
broken in half-heeled
and carried by lover
through the rain
through the night
past the crest
the cave
the cliffs with
bared breasts and
a first time psychosis.
And fat lips in
hallows
and sweet kissed in
abandon
With hands on hearts and
hearts in hands.
Give me my sand wind
air laden with salt and
give me wine
without sickness.
smoke
without smoke.
lovers
without secrets.
give me aching
insanity
a blocked creation
and tears
on the bed stand.
Hard iron
thick springs
broken boards and
open ears
at all times.
Give me life
life
life breaking out
in the shade of
acceptance
and
give me a reason
to love the sea
again.
Post a Comment