metonymy4u

switch my brain for another and I might not know the difference.
                                                and i’m still quite upset

that you thought it necessary to remind me
last night (between the closet and the door) that
the old time rockers understood passion as a bridge
between two clouds: work itself one could be proud of,

and not apologize for. i wish everything
was more sustainable than that.

but by this time tomorrow i’ll be waking alone in my bed
wondering if you were a dream.

i who can draw almost a lifetime, from one unheard
                                                               compliment.

have you ever seen a sky as beautiful as the one overhead right now?
no? then please don’t leave me tonight.

i can’t endure another thought as sad as the last.
and i’m worried about the imperfections of my body.