A little despair got in despite my locked doors and windows
Despair buzzing through my apartment like a mosquito
I put on some Jazz and, pressing my ear against the speaker,
Listened until I heard something new:
Tinnitus.

Despair
Bore a sense of smug entitlement
Spread out with an impudent disregard,
Cooling carelessly its hot thighs on my Italian leather

I admit to inching closer,
And tweaking for another taste
It reached its warm hands over
Towards my pallid face

But nobly I pulled back before
The thing made me its prey
Then I sat there waiting for
Despair to go away