hiding behind the tears in your eyes,
crying while you sleep; ten thousand
wet dreams

swimming pools for eyes,
drowning in those regrets. baptized by time
catching up on your love for cigarettes

chimneys for lungs, and a smoker's paradise
where all wear black atire
always wanting to con science of your conscience,—
never too concise, to tell the next person
of next person you like

and waiting so patiently for someone
to make you their wife
all with the pretend make-up to make up for your
appearance that makes them think twice

                  "I hope you find true love this second time"