like a forest inhabited
by varmints
are my hands
wanting that again
that close-enough
of a slouching to nirvana
that demands a higher
price, to have that between
parched lips again
even if my body
still aches
even if my mouth
still has in its dungeon,
the aftertaste
like a garage for autumn
abluted by the picking.
in this room of my mind darkened
by a gnawing desire,
its most secret deaths—
impending, singing and almost—
i have you now in my hands
sealing my fate.
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 12:53 AM UTC
like a forest inhabited
by varmints
are my hands
wanting that again
that close-enough
of a slouching to nirvana
that demands a higher
price, to have that between
parched lips again
even if my body
still aches
even if my mouth
still has in its dungeon,
the aftertaste
like a garage for autumn
abluted by the picking.
in this room of my mind darkened
by a gnawing desire,
its most secret deaths—
impending, singing and almost—
i have you now in my hands
sealing my fate.
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