our common dirty thirst that
last last evening was centennial.
trade me for a love song.
promise to tell me everyday that today is today.
and that I am alive.
there are places in the night.
soapy-eyed ghosts and ticklish tigers, both tough.
like me.
she likes my arm muscles.
no one has ever said these things to me.
no one has ever described me as strong.
these are harrowing adventures
that lead us to tables set for two
and sunsets set for one night
called At The End of Each...