Lives a night and a week and a month
They turned into each other, no sister no brother
It comes out in corners, under doors, through mid-air
A life for the dying, a death and then there's a struggle
He turns away or he doesn't
She gives her hand and he takes it or he doesn't
He's sleepy but soon he will wake
He's taken all he can take
He starts giving back, paying back
Tomorrow and love is the figment
Of imaginations crushed and coiled
Her hand is offered to a man in the misty south of her city
It's a pity he's nowhere around
It's tragic he's got nothing but his hand and his laptop and his bag
He stands up to leave but she's coming back
Again, he's not going anywhere
In love they have nothing but the loss of love
It hurts but he's here for the sweet duration
Which is likely 10 hours and maybe 2 more
And a month after that and a couple of weeks
Then his car, held together with black duct tape
Will make its way midwest
And he'll curse the summer he saw the sun rise through an uncovered crack of a papered-up window
written August 9, 2009
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