The day comes crawling on, abandoned to lonesome smoking and the tumult of the restless wind. Overcast and swaying beneath the tides of sky, the world sighing and creaking at the foundations. Long in the tooth and cooling off, the day just bucks and tussles, passing traffic and oft walked dogs. I try to stretch and soothe the ache in my back and bones, flexing the bent with my every breath. Eventually I settle back in the body. Eventually the absence is all.
Hunched over words in the mess about weather, sore in the shoulders from shrugging off all I don’t know. The taste of coffee of my tongue, the smoke patois of smell and taste so close you could kiss it, the whispers of a flavor you long to guess. The moment bright but deathly fleeting, the glass hanging translucent before it’s dashed upon the bricks, the wings of a bird before they’ve gathered up enough lift. Blink and you’ll miss it. Look away it’s been long gone.
There’s no question in my wanting you. There’s no question to the thinking that you claim. I’m no good at transitions. I’m no good at picking out the plot. These selfish bouts of missing kisses, the long road down the hill, the same old empty on arrival. The same old been there done. Just some songs playing at random. A place where you made a wish that only you thought would come true. The crow calls out the curtain call.
No comments:
Post a Comment