We quote
naked
favoured lines of poetry
snatches of memorized
jewels
eggs
nested in soft tissue
loving the way
phonemes arrange
to word
to sentence

Whiskey voiced
our tonals lull
into hot air
variations
drifting
percolating
heavy into
story

I ask
in self-deceit
not satisfied with the
prose poem we created
there
recited to blank walls
whispered to white sheets
honeyed with the drip
of faucet and creaking
timbers

His honesty
his way with the
word world
makes me cry for
my lies
until the gin blossoms
coming to my face
make me feel
real

Being real
he
incites spirits and
brings a missing
part of himself
between us
then my ghosts rise up
to mingle
erasing that
rough and easy piece
we crafted together
our shack up song< I can't compete with women who fall out of the sky so I'll love his words instead.