100 Moons
by Charlton Metcalf
am I keeping you, or are you letting me stay
regrets have no distrust
have I changed or just stopped caring
you, American alive,
spangled ripe
twirl schmaltz,
baton coming down, not looking smile
back shoulders of your peasant blouse stained
dandilion
you're easy to be
smoking pot just to make it a funny mistake
I want you purity of unaware
stimulation of being accused
incidental expressions
interactions emerged,
complete preference
you looks to me unearned,
somehow selfless,
blankly bombarding me with sex appeal
testosterone adore,
pink specific vulnerabilities exhibition
southern pixie pixie, deepthroat gossip
blue stocking, aggressive thong futurist
fury parts, moodcrafter possession
undercurrent hunting
your innocence, last night in town
remaining departure
darkest jazziest bass tunnel
sensuous deep intoxica
escape free side effect sustain
I crave your perceived pain
missing immortality
idolatry or loneliness,
with you cheating is a religion,
I am your God
upset aloof, inside crescendo composed,
moments of blood surfing anger,
daydream coming at you in lunged forgiveness
strived fervor of a damned romantic
my hands shaking
molecules of grief
made up of virtue, rage, and memories of our clothes
strewn on a Sunday morning floor
you never have any real words for me,
almost consolation
pretentiousness of my conscious,
twin Abraham Lincoln's,
discussing the last scenes acting during intermission
reliving regardless,
the significance of courage,
where I'm from
tints of embarrassment,
scratched off lottery, loser flashy gaudy
small town evidenced
patients of metal fatigue
100 moons
your headless shadow,
every instance
full length mirror,
at the end of hallways of thoughts
turning towards you, looking back,
distinction between psyche and expectation
identity flash
stretching into a craving
jaguar thinker,
your eyes missing a first kiss imagination
imparting the black ivory serene of a quiet storm
night
heavy breath,
silence from a lover is better than silence from a
friend
my confidence, a warmed replica belong to you
bad endings linger into birth control being more
important
inevitable love affair strata
I'll keep bluesing, happy hour, straight no chaser,
'till nothing hurts like it ever did before
driving around, in your truck
free Mumia keychain swinging into my leg
windshield junebug gut galaxies
goodnight heart, land speed record,
looking for a shop open late enough, to buy you roses,
eventually petals for your bath slash
reaching over turning up the "back in black"
deafening decided
which one of us was meant for this
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