In The Cold

just a sleep-deprived 
sonofabitch,
wading into the future
like a purposeful drowning
victim of my own volition. 

dance the dance of death
with me
or dine with me downtown
on a dreary day in December;
it's all the same. 

life is about love and laughter,
not much else,
am I right?
I might be.
prove me wrong. 

and into the night, 
we go like lions learning
to stow our fear,
for I too and just an animal
waiting for next love, next meal, next life.