Sunday, September 26, 2004

Stone

No longer on sheets do I sleep
Nor the comfort of a soft bed
for my bones and head
My eyes shut then they open up
exhausted an hour before dawn
Missing you is lost in mist
Lover's caresses blurred into fist
Punch drunk, apallingly stoned
and pissed
broken, forsaken, haggard, forlorn.


DFRW 23rd February 2003

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