Five steps to disaster
five more to a dizzy debauchery,
and he was you,
yes, darling,
and you were me
We practice tricks of the trade,
violin played lines,
dancing around your legs,
your hands,
without you, I’m nothing but sand.
Reel in the forgotten names,
numbers,
the drizzle-drop dismay,
of bloodletting;
her name is Rio and she dances.
Days slide without tearing the page,
down, dark one,
we slide farther still.
You leave lipstick marks on my ankles,
crisscrossed Tic-Tac-Toe stains.
On your elbows,
and eyelids,
the shadow of my dreamscape,
post-coital recall,
as we sleep in someone else’s story.
Pour me another,
my monkey twin,
pull your best pout for me,
then twirl,
spin,
twirl again,
without the onset of recovery.
We will be the Sun.
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