Transitionary lovers rarely remain
if you think about why this is too long
it will probably drive you insane.

Nobody really knows.

When you left the wife
left the life
left the husband
left the strife
at
least for a little while

You are

caught up in the sparkling, twinkling, incandescent
glowing opiates of love
finally
no pain remained.

There are
Smiles all around.

We danced so close in
night clubs like cruise ships
sailing to no where
and
no where to go

But
you are
leaving her
leaving him
leaving them
trying to forget what you already know.

Transitionary lovers rarely remain.

This one will be different
we are so different
we found this magic
and it will
be maintained
as
Days together go by
weeks and months too

But

In the end
the transitionary lover may have sparked
the change
from
here
to
there

The homes which were cozy
once again become lonely.

Life becomes a parking lot motel
staring out the window at the heat
displaced
trying to convince yourself
this is not too bad.

Transitionary lovers rarely remain
and
both of us will be on to the next one
Falling back into the routines
of
life, love, stability

Awaiting again for that transitory lover
to
take us where we need to go.

her pale face in the warm night
like medieval dark princess lips so bright
lure the sailor with her desperate charms
****** the heart with her eyes

the scents of the seven seas wash over me
all the traveling done to see a higher place to be
when it was right here infront of me
her thin pale lips pressed against mine
she whispers a plea
not to follow the wild things into the night
not to stand unfriended under the church of the skies
naked to the cold rain
to stay here in her warm arms
quickening under the spell of her devices

the chipped tiles cold
bucket of brine
sits by the door
has no shadow has no rhyme
it is salty for a dog of the sea
lick his haunches with thin lip grin
the tallyman count but the water rapping on the hull distracts
let us in the waves call to you
let us wash your spirit and teach you to float in the deep
the water is cool on your fevered brow

and since the words fled your pen
there is so little to do
but listen to the waves rapping on the hull
on the beaten weather burned white paint of the wood hull
its peeling and rot shows
the waves call out to you
let us in
we will teach you to ride the deep ocean rivers
teach you to see
the tallyman count one two three
the tallyman know good one from bad
toss you back to the sea
you no good
you go back to the god that made you