You And Me And The Devil Makes Three (aka I Want To Hold You In Contempt)

Her kiss is a relapse, misfortune,
worsening of my worst impulses;
an awful influence full of irresistible.
Her words are drugs and drugs are a clutch,
til highs do us part and lows make us
whole again. Bags of heavy yesterdays
weigh down, and I don’t know what to do with myself.

Taken hands, hushed words, rushed stalls-
what a waste to not grab waist and do
a four letter word (love). Plans to keep
and make her a home, 5PM lockdown, rush hour,
crowded public when doubts double and my mouth
taste like cinders. Slipping  into a thought of her
like a favorite pair of jeans.

Snug, familiar, and warm; she fits well. Run my thumb along the holes
and coffee stains, wonder what memory or feeling
the moment will settle as, when the honeys and the moons
fade. If my name will be a sigh, wistful as a cloud,
or vague as rain humming to what the radio plays.
A feeling haunting me in the distance, a reminder
that you are in tangles and I am tangelsome.

Still I pray for relapse and disaster,
addiction and her sex to once again step into me,
far from fog and drizzled Sundays, so I might tug
on her thoughts like a shoelace.

I am undone again.

Mouthing The Words To A Song Is Not A “Story” (aka Socially Accepted Narcissism)

She was gorgeous, in a terrible sort of way. Beautiful, but fully aware of it while pretending otherwise. She liked taking photographs of old brick buildings and vanilla lattes shaped with hearts in foam, and when she described herself, she used very obnoxious words like “honest” or “bibliophile.” A little confidence shy of another Instagram princess, her measured modesty was obvious and dishonest; it struck me as a very conscious and deliberate over-indulgence in the benefits her sex and carefully caricatured appearance afforded. A glow I know is worn and doesn’t grow from I-woke-up-like-this. And from the very beginning I didn’t trust her- I dislike anybody heartless enough to prey on our rare and kinder inclinations. Villains playing a great game of charades- usually insincere, sometimes a victim, but always a monarch in the pursuit of their own validation.

20180206_211047