You can find me dirty smirking to a cappuccino queen,
snapping my fingers to her reason for being.
You’d be surprised to know what she means
when she stomps her hands and claps her feet.
Who knew in your abandonment you’d leave
so much with me—I’ve taken to painting your shades.
Digging graves to deepen the truth undead,
flourishing massacres from an empty bed,
Do nothing. I hear the thunder rumbling.
Yet, my murky theories never amounted to
anything more than a soggy thesis
on an uninspired journey—A love on fire
when all you could see were your dreams burning.
Like portraits of me fighting off your grays,
part of me always to be tied up
in your straight laces, cupping my hands
to give you one more step to take—breathe with me.
I’ll sing more than a sultry tune,
but for now let’s soak in the smoky room.