ONE NIGHT STAND:
I sit at the kitchen table & watch you,
No speaking on this smoky morn of blue,
Into empty cup
you pour coffee scented plans,
Scrambled hopes, fried words shriveled in the pan,
The toaster pops, spewing burnt useless dreams,
Down the sink go last night´s drunken schemes,
Another one night stand, I walk out the door,
Always looking for something much, much more.
"Scrambled hopes, fried words shriveled in the pan,
ReplyDeleteThe toaster pops, spewing burnt useless dreams,"
Oh, have I been here...counting the swirling cloud rising from a coffee cup ...as one...wondering if it will rise higher than the feeling of empty in my gut.