24, I'm gutless and bored,
Not even trying to remember what brought me here.
So I indulged in another stranger, lonesome into the morning,
in a late winter month I allowed myself a taste.
This neighborhood of foreign language, soft chords shake a story out of voices.
Free drinks made me sit up tall, see all around.
I had to go too far.
He poured some more, just as I decided, I had to wrap myself around a good night.
High on his warm skin, needing to feel the burn of new hunger.
For the guardian of the wine, I forgot to sip slowly.
I've lost patience, not a friend. I don't need them.
These bones will tear the shutters off.
They'll open a mouth right up.


(I wanted to breathe with you, in a state further east,
beside a stream already muddy. And everything that came out wrong would be fluid, and of fire.
It would be from under claws, dug out through my winter skin.
But I had this urge to be crazy again)


I straddled him with all of my imbalance.
Breathing back the thirst he was so kind to take care of.
A little bite of sunrise fought to sober me, but I held on.
With everything you never thought was in me.
I found myself infront of him, forming a new spine, wrapped inside the blanket
of fleeting and anonymous.
For once in a long time, late hours didn't tire me.
The fact that we're getting older didn't occur to me.
That was your idea.

03/24/2005

Posted on 03/25/2005
Copyright © 2025 Kimberly Rhode