You stretch arguments along the lifelines of my patience
Plant eager excuses on my collarbones of doubt
Feed me watered-down wine of ever-pending promises
That my trust-tangled stomach can never hold down

Your touch singes holes in my dress of protection
Burns through the layers of my shock-salted skin
Your eyes tell a tale of belligerent disarmament
My judgement messed up by your lopsided grin

Your glance of missed chances pierces my instinct
Sees right through the weakness of my fast-fading self
My senses confused by the lure of your fragrance
Susceptible bait for your trickery of scent

My nails scratch your back for a grip of intention
I stitch up your contour, unravelling my own
Tearing up scars that I once thought well-covered
Slowly you’re ******* the marrow from my bones

Smiling you cushion the blows of your winged words
But the humdrum still bruises my lured lazy limbs
Your smoke-flavoured lips taste of death and destruction
But still my parched mouth follows your every whim

The fire sparkled a watery light
As the moon soothed time into oblivion
And a faint recollection of yesterday lay dizzy at their feet

Her afterthought was inconclusive
As to whether the cup in her hand
Had elicited an exuberance
Sufficiently encouraging to make her face the dawn

On their playground of broken bottles and burned out branches
The chords of melancholia clung heavy to the night

The sweet sounds of memories they had relived
And strung together into an utterly unruly melody,
Seemed to push the sunrise back
Under the horizon lying looming out of reach

Smoke rising up from the last of their dampened pine branches
Laid a murky gloom over the glaring view of an inescapable morn

The clouds rolling in ****** them back into darkness
Hiding an unwanted future from sight
Allowing an indulging as sweet as the drink
That still lingered on the lips that spoke of never wanting to go back

The rain-burst covered their world with a wafer-thin film of glistening protection
Every thunder bolt momentously holding off dawn

But the fire that had fuelled their careless lazy limbo
Hissed under the abundantly extinguishing streams coming down
The spark that had lasted them all through the night
Melted into a shocking sense of reality
Quenching her parched desire
To dance in the rain
And run towards the sunrise with arms wide open

Nails in pocket
For future fastening
Of repellence on wood
Legs twisted, stiff, that
Forgot how to follow
In any other way than
Swaying in the wind
Hay hair shining in
Sunlight less every time
The dustbowl hits
Rags around lumps,
Stakes, rakes
Make for inadequate
Facade of waking
From afar well placed,
At ease, maybe
Somewhat untidy,
But balanced, stable
At a distance, listening
One might even hear
A raspy voice whispering
Wind to wood,
Promises of movement
Mistake a hollow stare
For vigilance
But with senses obsolete
Inertia well-rewarded
Mere being never sufficed
But for here and now