re-attempts at form.

got bored on a long cab ride, decide to have some half-hearted fun with form, which i have not touched for a while. oh boy. laugh it up kiddos.

***

Last Pills

Down to our last pills,
having wasted too many on getting along.
Already, we are waking,
if you won’t go for more, I will.

Possessed, dancing to our individual fill,
drunk on our nakedness, diving into the black,
in this state, even you could love me,
right down to your last pill.

Smoke grants the room a frosted feel,
like your face, towards me, in your trance.
You reach for more; nothing, you are yelling,
“Go for more! Or I will.”

I went, then carried on, going farther still,
till the urge for dancing has been filled,
when the smoke has been forcibly cleared,
right down to my last pill
after that, even if you refused to go, I would have.

***
listening to : chris pierce - are you beautiful
reading: stanley kunitz - collected poems

_