I don't know how to write you and maybe that's the point of it I think about taxi cabs and single beds and pity my poor stomach It can't take the shame of fogged memory Dewed with whiskey and gingerale Not regret, but it's kin, no fooling. I don't do regrets And I've never said a thing that I don't mean So I meant it when I said it, but the when's important Because I'm not flippant, or unsteady But I don't know how I'm feeling.
Just know that I am. I am feeling. And I feel that that's significant.
Because I don't want to be a ball of quicksilver Bright, mercury Rolling from you in quick, sharp drips Of poisonous charm. Don't swallow it. But do listen. Just not too much. Forget I said anything. I'll stay quiet Until I know what I'm saying.
Just know that I am feeling Even if I don't know what I'm feeling. I am feeling.