Saturday, January 17, 2015

6264. WELL, MAYBE

WELL, MAYBE
Everything has been degraded, diminished,
made small. My love for you  -  like some
slick Cialis ad  -  has four hours on its plan
all the time. Call some mad doctor, quick!
-
In the half dark, my heart is holding your
hand, my mind is wrapped around this blanket,
and I am somehow locked between your knees.
How could this be? What happens? Is
Love like this an Earthly thing?
-
Let me know the message; has it gotten
through? What shall I do in the 
dusky light without you?

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