The words

What promises did we keep?
Maybe I’m the hypocrite
We all edit in the margins
“If only…”
We live in die
Inside the (if only)
——-
I am all wrong
I am all write
Wasted
Worn out
And
She called me
And said we spend half a life waiting for the second half
But what play is redeemed in the the third act?
There’s never enough sex
Money
And there’s never someone who reads our passions and bodies
——
I was tired
And drunk
And they asked me what my favorite part of sex was
And I was spoke before I realised
Better of it
And said
“The first thrust…”
And they said something like
“Being there for the last thrust. Get in and out…”
And I was thinking about all the ways we fall apart
In arms
Bed
Death
Expectations
Love
Disarmed
Armed
Weary
——-
Her hair falls across her
She stands there
Eyes bright
And I’m watching
Waiting
Lost
Writing
She’s poetry in motion
But she deserves more than that.
-Regardingsamuel.com

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