No hands...

(written on : 01/26/06...)

No hands...

wounds, battle wounds, love battle wounds...
the thing under my tongue is sore...
lips out of control, such sweet forgiveness...
with ulterior motive, using the moment...

If heaven left me out because of this
then I don't want to go...

Despite visible cautions, and casual interruptions...
in comfort of conversation...
sharing warmth and a drink and a cigarette...
looking out at the world and feeling alive...
how we blended and subtly separated...
you've never looked more beautiful...
and the hair subtly misplaced was perfect...

and the taste of pleasure on your lips was evident...
the memory you tried to hide is permanent...
and you say you didn't lie...
but I still think you streached the truth...

and we drive, to get closer...
but we stay away from each other...
and none of our plans work out...
we are both invaded, by the past turned present...

if you have given up, then this is over...
because you are in control and getting sober...
but the alcohol was not a reason...
it was the icebreaker we needed to gain back our disscontrol...

If heaven left me out because of you...
the I don't want to go...