ten shy of the century mark
ninety decades, four generations
four stages away from healthy
where did the first three go?
two months to fade
one moment to take, it takes forever
Hoping for three, God give me *one

sleep is for the week
a fortnight is never strong
in fact its too weak

my love's found in the moment
where there's sunscreen sprayed in the kitchen
sticking to the hard wood
of sprayed fumes in an empty house
where bodies abandoned
in favor of kayak boats
that may or may not float
once, no, twice patched now
confidently ****** from the ramp to the water
at a run down marina
chosen over the serenity
of the murky swamp solitude
but my love doesn't stay put
the creek, she follows
but turns where streams diverge
away love goes on course, off path, of course
love took off from the launch point, left me in her wake