people come and go
clouds sustain
addiction to the sun
winters envy summers
celestial wrenchings
sustain my knees
to the floor
my heart these years
is a saloon door,
it seems.
You walk right through—
wooden flaps swing
no lock
no luck
every Man for himself.
I love to lie
(mostly to myself)
sweet things to soften
and sicken
the soul
you were never my card
to play
they took you back
to the pile
hearts never were
my hand,
anyway
you say my words
back to me
and they echo off
the ocean
in their ugliness
toes bury
in the sand,
ashamed of the
head
fragile goodwill
threatens to die
every word that forms
and makes it to
your ears
laden with gold,
your hands
huge
and much too
forgiving
you see the waves
that lick your feet
but i see the horizon
where I kill you
as the water meets
the sky
and sun bleaches
the eye
clean off.