Quite unlike Lullaby
those authors of bliss aid
sordid fantasies,
Reminders of could-bes
and not-quites
recreate Cheap Love.
In lustful friction,
sticky Situation.
We were not meant to be lovers
nor to recreate
Ancient Lore
We were but players.
I live to forget my indiscretions
in your moment of lying comfort.
Lock lips
Hold on.
And eyes squeezed shut,
breathing. Whisper a half truth.
disclaimer
"this is not serious and
you are very attractive"
I forget in the personal,
And the brutally close. Forget
when your profanity became sacred
to my heart
Rude shocks of morning breath as
you kiss my wrist and find
a lash clinging
And then you turn away.
Football scores.
I pluck it gingerly and wish
for innocence back,
what better gift?
Your preoccupations
my lack of indignation.
Both astound me,
For I give it all, and I do not know
What right this is
nor what i should ask for.
Recede into insignificance.
No hard feelings.
You forget, you forget.
