no room for regret

and true to you i'll be

sunken lips over cashmere legs 

in a tangle of evergreen sleep;

i'm only living when i

watch you draw the curtains closed

with hazy sunday thoughts composed

in overthrown empires we make ourselves known

don't cower down, break the ground beneath my feet

i'll sail on forward as mockingbirds sing;

it's swallowed pride, or sticks and stones

at last clouds burn with the warmth of what never begun

and the lust of what's been lost

-

unspoken words often leave scars

of which scabs i pick at and burst open until

oblivion reaches the tip of my tongue,

unsteadily, hastily, taking a sliver of forgiveness

before they're nowhere within reach

and the candle's wax burns thin

beside the avenues i'd taken out to sea

while the ghost of you and the ghost of me

tiptoe over the ledge of what never was

 and will always be