I cling to your memory

fearing...

I will forget

myself

I'm the bran bucket boobie
I'm the dollar bargain bin
I'm the prize that they still give you
Even though you didn't win

I'm the chipped cup in the cupboard
I'm the last sweet in the tin
I'm the cheap dime store necklace
that irritates your skin

I'm the actor on the telly
or at least I am his twin
that's the one I'm Quasimodo
wishing he was Errol Flynn

I'm the tattoo after drinking
I'm the one night stand and sin
and the hope that you're not pregnant
or I was too drunk to put it in

I'm the pill in the morning
and the mourning for more gin
I'm the prize they always give you
Even though you didn't win.

Even atheists
can see the beauty
of
speaking in
tongues.

If you must say goodbye...

say it with a kiss

My love for you

is kept

within
a

leather case

I'll raise my toast to beauty
then
spread
with butter

Mysterious packages...

discarded

in litter bins

unsigned for

and

undelivered