Raindrops now sprinkle an earlier day’s
suicide, so too, lightning strikes my beer can.

And come the moment where I’d wished the
moon there, I’d yet to find the means to seize
it. It’s an unwelcome catharsis as our cratered
dream, along with the car, the keys, the
carnal, and caprice, are possessed, tucked a
deep blue jean pocket, and just above your
rear, perfection had I ever traced it; now
untouchable, rendered my choice.

Raindrops now sprinkle an earlier day’s
suicide, so too, lightning strikes my beer can.

The air smelled sweet of promises
The quill wet and ready
The seat sat empty
The page lay bare
Sweet promises turn decayed expectations
Rotting delusions
Spill through quill
From self-inflicted gaping wounds
The worms seem happy
Dancing in the meat of yesterday's dreams

Last night I dreamt about you for the first time.
I dreamt you knew but you still asked me.
You asked me what is really your place in my heart.
I told you not to ask me what you didn't want to know.
Even though I knew you knew.
Even though  I know you know.
It is strictly closed awareness context.
And it doesn't matter anyhow.