I wonder to the bar and see lipstick
tags holding on to lonely sticks.
A stirring of moments, melting pots of
relaxing reflection they called it dove.
As your worries fly away with everyone
you have, and then I'm served and done.
Collecting my shuffling skills to weave
the ocean of others, our drinks we've
been able to keep from sinking on others.
Thirsty friends awaiting our return, like
maidens on the shore, smiling a dislike
for a wrong drink brought. acting childlike.
But he holds no argument as butts lay
static. We were the sailors escaping the spray.
Telling them of our journeys and sights seen,
mouths a gasp at observing a beautiful scene.
A number taken with but a glance of smiling
eyes and with a drink brought clearly willing.
He knows that is for another time, as the street
we surrender to. As hunger outweighs sweet
perfumes enticing friends to anchor away from
needing mates. Aromas perforate a needed outcome,
handing over spare change to fulfil a nights hunger.
Laughing as were old, never wishing we were younger.
As wisdom teaches that a fish may swim,
but to much of a good thing can end in a whim.
So one must always leave a little in a glass,
for we need not want our slumber to be on grass.
Awoken in our beds slighty misty eyed but
a nice number in the phone and in my pocket a peanut?
