Burning wood from winter’s past
drifts through open windows
welcoming new smells and scents
marked down by priceless
conversation
breathing in smoldering memories
from different night skies.
Shadow’s steal the light
gleaming from eyes
bought by smiles
simply wanting to be seen
dancing on wet lips
dipped in pools
of overcharged beer
And free
Free
Free
Desire.
But lust costs
the night
and the morning
is the bill you hid
under moist pillow sheets
filled with tangled hair
smelling like the day
Before
shampoo and routine.
Possession is
the ultimate attainment
of will.