Tore out of the
Sheets as if I were
About to really figure
You out. Two years in,
We pulled out, cleaned up.
Next time we’ll be 35 and steady.
Yeah, you never wore that
Unless you wanted it
That bad! The night
The old era busted you
Were high for the very first
Time. Strangers again for
The shaky second;
Lawn chair, and so many lies. I promised
You a recuperation; hope
It was not so surprising getting clotheslined
As you were,
Right, right when it felt
As if you might have me
Once again.
Get some sleep, I’m putting
Your love away.
Don’t dream, girl, it gets nasty.