The Lovers Quarrel.
The lovers quarrel.
Their soft chuckles
Humming through the wall
And I stagger still
Remembering how my fingernails
Sailed across the blonde fluff
Of your spine.
The stars are nothing
But wishing platforms to them.
They still have some time
Before their love blossoms
Into rejection and eventually
Bitterness and reserve.
Yesterday the sun
Covered their shoulders
Like a warm blanket-
It’s rays like spikes into my eyes
As if to protect them from me.
Though once, do you remember,
I held a tiny frightened bluethroat
In my palm and extended it towards you
And told you to feel it’s frantic
Heart beats against the tip of your fingers.
To say love was easy back then.
Now I gasp and slither
And fumble through the memories;
All the chances gobbled up,
All the kindness wasted,
All the love finally worn.
It’s three hours past midnight here
And the love birds next door laugh
And vibrate and drink
As my frozen face emerges
From the dark like a pale statue
And I stumble through the rooms
Of my house with a flashlight
Confused and afraid
Like the first time I coughed blood
On the verge of piercing my ears
With an ice pick
To keep their happiness
From intruding my life
Like an unannounced guest.
Nothing left to do tonight
But drink from the bottle
And try hard not to do
Anything stupid.
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