16 (a long night)
A long night, my love, my sweet sick sunrise,
my drunken dawn, my pearly, priceless doom.
Who but you? Waiting in my blinking eyes,
churning in exhaustion—my reckless fume.
Dirty feet, white thighs and somebody's bride;
divorcee, chapped lips and laughter to lie for.
We had no shame but we both had our pride.
Never were you mine, never was I yours.
Never came the nevermore, the sorrow
for the lost cold war, the bickered, battered
bedroom sores, mascara charred and marrow
bored. I hate how they knew we would shatter.
And whoever invented the promise
had no love, made no concession, for us.
also embedded at The Believer Logger
also embedded at PEN
included in "Webcam Girls Read Sonnets" in Vice
podcast by InDigest
originally published in 1AM