805

almost called her last night
but i was dead in my boots
close to passing out

i asked a buddy to drive
down her street
we idled on the block
him smoking a cigarette
and me watching her door
like all those men i hate

it’s not the end of the world
he said
after hours in silence
i told him i would clock him
if he said another piece
of old world advice

pause - break

-
-
sometimes when i smoke
at three in the morning
i see her silhouette under the sheets
then i take the wine
off my nightstand
and hold the bottle
up to the light of the lamp