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Tag: lust

Blame It On Your Memory

I know it’s late and you told me you don’t want me coming ’round
But I was in the neighborhood and on my way downtown
Thought you’d like to know I saw your memory yesterday
He told me to look you up before he’d go away

I know that we both agreed we’d be better off as friends
But memory got the best of me and brought me ’round again
You don’t have to say you love me and I’ll try not to care
We’ll just look up our old heartache and see who’s living there

Ain’t no use pretending that all the feeling’s gone
But we can’t stop the burning of this bridge we’re standing on
Just tell me you don’t wonder sometimes when you’re all alone
And I’ll tell your old memory to take my heart back home.

I know it’s late
but I was thinking that you might want to see me
We could walk right up the street and drink to memory
Thought you might like someone who knew how to have a time
If memory serves me well, I know your favorite brand of wine

It’s thin ice that we’re walking on, but it will turn out right
Besides, your memory wouldn’t let me stay away tonight
You don’t have to call me darling, and I’ll try not to stare
We’ll just look up that old heartache, and see who’s living there

Ain’t no use pretending that all the feeling’s gone
But we can’t stop the burning of this bridge we’re standing on
Just tell me you don’t wonder sometimes when you’re all alone
And I’ll tell your old memory to take my heart back home.

1997

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Chandelier’s Left Wink and Blinding

Ceiling now in staring anguish,
once the eyes I found and lost;
last few moments, caught myself
and wound my winding sheet about it.

Words are not the thing for speaking:
truth, in little hardened bitters,
shows itself as one with hopeless
causes, self-aversion dramas,
Lysistratic coffee conscience.

Why when said it natural felt
the need to press and fold?
Enfolded leipedoptera means
no beauty, pins and needles.

I hate this feeling, wanting
knowing nothing offered is worth taking; yet
submittal, anything for just two fleeting
words, both of contradiction.

Given it is gone, and yet while nothing
hurts its purpose, still expect
you’ll never see what pain is
in the place where you are not.

1993

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