Every one knows cigarettes and liquor
Are temporary
Rough *** and late drives end as quickly as they began
You stop tripping and rolling once you wake up
How foolish of me to think you were forever

Ahhh the scent of her
voice

as if sound could be
a perfume

her limbs scattered
all over the unmade bed

like a puppet
whose strings have been cut

or now a starfish
stranded in the rock pool

of these crumpled
sheets

licking her naked
clavicle

with the tip of his
pointed tongue

reciting Éluard to her
proud left ******

"...for you are made...no
fashioned for...

nothing but
love and sleep."

or something such
( it doesn't matter much )

only the poetry
of such kisses.