Your eyes gaze calmly, staring straight ahead
at the menu you hold between your hands,
speaking only about the kind of spread
you’ll share to keep your bread from getting bland.
Cough once, speak twice, drink water with some ice,
you have nothing interesting left to say.
Don’t even bother asking for advice,
except maybe what card you’ll use to pay.
Ignore the grace that thirty years will bring,
the happiness was never bound to stay.
It’s gone like the shine of your wedding ring,
and never was it any good to pray.

And as you leave you think but are not sure
You heard "What a cute old couple they were!”

I liked you better
when I didn't know you.
pixelated words
made you my Pygmalion.
except you never
            came alive.

Keep worshiping the stone
while the puppet-master
works from above
or should i say
             Down Under.

You were my cocktail,
and drugged, i followed
your manipulations,
            requests.
           frivolous requests.

Called it my "education".
One where they used
              the rod.

He is the text to my white-sheeted soul,
giving my energy potential; I am titled.
The coffee stains and characters have purpose
when accompanied by our story.

And on that night, he inscribed his
words to become the beginning of our novel:
our first conversation transformed
my diary into dialogue.

Our roughly-colored previous pages tether and tear,
as we build a better time out of new pulp.
We aren't unwritten, for see on this heart of ours,
is the carving of Fall's creation.

He let me in;
his open wounds
made it easier.

All things die at the setting of the sun
First shall be last and the last shall be first
You know that’s true when all is said and done

Moonshine and black light bring no salvation
Those unquenched have eternity of thirst
All things die at the setting of the sun

And by the bad are the good overrun
With gnashing of teeth and words that are cursed
You know that’s true when all is said and done

The corpses dig graves; virtue there is none
And though we are the last we are the worst
All things die at the setting of the sun

Along with the light, the beauty is gone
No music and no plays, no lines rehearsed
All things die at the setting of the sun
You know that’s true when all is said and done

Our lives are made of not but shallow things
Relax, its not you who has to worry
Let time pass by, try if you can to sing

Just sip your champagne and wear diamond rings
Assuredly homeless know no fury
Our lives are made of not but shallow things

Bourgeois in the past, it has no meaning
Be elegant, there’s no need to hurry
Let time pass by, try if you can to sing

Not you but the unfortunate will sting
Don’t fret, don’t cry, don’t get in a flurry
Our lives are made of not but shallow things

To money, wretched money, do you cling
But money, from pockets, it does scurry
Let time pass by, try if you can to sing

The sound you hear is not your own screaming
Sit calm, sit back, watch the world go blurry
Let time pass by, try if you can to sing
Our lives are made of not but shallow things

Remember my face, but not my name
As we part ways, hands in our pockets
I’ll never see you again the same
You’ll only remember my face, not name.

Remember my sound but not my song
The words were never important to you.
You knew you would be fine all along
So you remember my sound, not song.

Remember my scent but not my perfume,
My hair was never much to smell.
A fool to think you might have been groom…
Do you even remember my scent, not perfume?

Remember my curves, but not my shape,
How uninteresting they appear now.
Never something at which to gape,
Hardly remember my curves, not shape.

I remember your name and your face,
And all I take is a sideways glance
At your now unattainable bubble space.
I remember both name and face.

I remember your song and sound,
The melody and words burn in my ears.
A rope, they tie around me; I’m bound.
And I still remember your song and sound.

I remember your perfume and scent,
A smell of *** that I recognize,
And a desire you’ll never admit was meant.
But I remember your perfume and scent.

I remember your shape and body,
As hard as I tried not to stare.
Seems that your memory is shoddy,
Forever I’ll remember your shape and body.

Try as I might to forget your name,
It’s all I have left of you to hold.
As you tell me this never happened,
I’ll prove you wrong when I speak your name.

Black pupils envelop your iris, and I wish
That I could forgive your caressing hand, and
our lips would reacquaint and release as we crease the sheets

With salty tears and reconciled sense, but silence
ensues after your massage; you get the message
and sink deep into the  bed, your head

turned away from my cold shoulder; and I'm caught, not
sure if my resignation was worth your shirt, my skirt
not being flung full force on the floor-- more

even to say we could embrace, your face
on the space between my face and my chest; rest
no more, I'm ready to supplicate! but Fate
would say, "your hearts sleep awoken and broken in a fight, tonight."