your lens
tuning itself to me
bathed in viscous red
it thickens;
a smile of pure outrage
pins to my cheeks with such force
you don’t know
how many times i’ve prayed for this:
a menagerie of bottles
splayed out on the table
like drunken bodies
smoke streams from your lips
across a green fall of light,
these days will become nothing
but sections of a film
suspended between hands.
i cannot find within myself
any semblance of aliveness
if not under your embracing glow
i can only pray with ire
to the wisps of the night
you will never find out
how long i’ve waited.
Jan 27, 2020
Jan 27, 2020 at 9:40 AM UTC
your lens
tuning itself to me
bathed in viscous red
it thickens;
a smile of pure outrage
pins to my cheeks with such force
you don’t know
how many times i’ve prayed for this:
a menagerie of bottles
splayed out on the table
like drunken bodies
smoke streams from your lips
across a green fall of light,
these days will become nothing
but sections of a film
suspended between hands.
i cannot find within myself
any semblance of aliveness
if not under your embracing glow
i can only pray with ire
to the wisps of the night
you will never find out
how long i’ve waited.