you are my treasured pain—
and i am your inebriation secret joy

the wonders of it all,
over whiskey and wonderland talk
so wistful and gay

playing dress up for faux first dates
and dancing around inevitability

but i was her in black and red,
with joy and caveats to hold at night

and you were the boy with the velvet voice,
so quiet at day, but bold in the evening tides

how we walked this far
on such rough terrain,
with a third hand in mine,
i’ll never know.

i trip and fall down the coastline,
allowing for bumps and bruises
along my blushed face and jawline

you were not magnificent,
only marred,
with tattered tales of torment and your demise

but the demise was mine instead,
all for the taste of a secret wine

and we became the last of the great faux pas
and I became a dissection at my desk
again

your words are meaning to you,
but we crumple them and
spit on your intentions,
which until then were never seen
out of your mouth

i’ll never know how you tasted,
but i know
how it tastes
to never have you.

and you’ll not hold me in wintertime
below the shadows of december,
but you’ll hold on to the fragments
of Almost
and Settling
until you pass.