Something happy

Her eyes tracked from right to left as though she were watching someone dancing. It was just her thoughts punching like fists into her skull until she saw colors and flashes of light bathing her vision in confusion. She became aware that he was waiting and tried to mentally rush the colors out of her cheeks. Taking some breathes to compose herself, she finally met his eyes. The address that he wrote upon her hand was quickly looked at. The q and r was hardily recognized by the smugly black ink that ran like tears between her love and life line. How ironic, she thought.
She moved to get up but he stopped her with a tender touch to her inner elbow and place of two fingers to his lips. She kept her stare in his eyes and moved no further towards the door.

You take advantage, sir

You take advantage, sir.
You leak traces
Every morning I think of you
If you want a kiss, a caress, a romp in the hay,
a talk or a message, a twinkle of the eye,
a smile, a hug or a simple look from me.
I don't know what to do with myself, sir.
For I came to you to fix myself, sir.
Not the other way around.
And you took advantage, sir.
You took my hugs, my kiss, my caress,
message, smile, romp in the hay
and look!
And then left.
You took advantage, sir.

Drunk

Why face complete mental arrest with sad formalities? Twitches of faces, gestures of hands, stance of relationships and who f***s f***s who? The edge of the screen is all we have and sense is what it cost. Is it democracy or complicacy? Is it right or justice? Is conspiracy the acts of justice the only channel we have or ever had in history had left as a right and a stance and control as human begins?
Who controls the seat of the government? The puny bystanders or the government that buys and is bought it's way through crap and money and power for it's next thirty-four dollar and seventy eight cent wine?

Of not being him

It's the problem of not being him
Over and over again
It's the problem of not being him
His eyes
His small back
His thighs,
I never looked at
His eyes I now know are green
It's the problem of not being him that you pick up on
You will never be him
You aren't him
And I'm not with him.
So I don't fully feel like me.
And I sometimes doubt he fully feels like him
But you sir, sir, sir
You Are not him