you always pray for thunderstorms the night before
so tomorrow's skirmishes are a foregone conclusion
your wallet is full of useless notes and a collection
of slowly decaying pennies that you never need
credit cards are nothing without an object of affection
sometimes you dream about buying a flower
just to hold it in your hand and pretend to give
it to the one you love, and how much they'd thank you
and hold you and whisper sweet nothings in your ears
even though you try and fire lust constantly
in the shape of grapeshotted hearts
one day you'll learn that they scratch your barrel
and jam the machina of your fragile body
the pavements are filled with couples who
hold hands and stand under street lamps
but you stand on your own
under a flickering light, which eventually dies
and you watch cars zoom past
but no-one stops to offer you a lift
they just spray dirty puddles onto your shoes
and drive into horizon, with smiles on their faces.
