we met only every midnight
by the dark sea in moonlight
where the driftwood pile
of our common heart ache
was put on top of the other
to burn it down
and mourn for a little

we had too much whisky
with a decaying *****
pressing our nicotine lungs
staring at the hopeless fire
and stepping on the dark sand

we belonged to no one
and no where
the earthquake vibrated
our empty soul
leaving the driftwood pile

with the thin air
the warmth of fire
and the sentimental shore
that night we planned
our tender demise