Dark Poetry Prose Poetry September 26, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

9:33pm sunday 9-26-04

fingers hold well. designed specifically for that task. still you'd think they'd do it better than they do. fingers like wet cement reach out to grab. if only those foundations could solidify faster. then we might have something to build these lives upon that would actually last.

when you take the night to bed with you. lay beside it under the blankets. when you let the night sleep beside you it doesn't like to leave.

it's those kinds of unions that change your outlook. reverse your perception. it's those kinds of affairs that cause you to question if anything could ever be good.

when you give yourself up to it. finally accept its proposal. knowing no one else will ever ask. it's the one relationship you can't ever end. you belong to the night forever. you could leave i guess. but you'd never belong in that world of daylight that they have.

fingers made to interlace. bodies made to interlock. it appears the odds are in favor of connecting. so i don't know why we're not.

the fault could lie in the head. could lie in the heart. we can distribute the blame equally amongst them. it really makes no difference to these lives. they don't want excuses. all they want is happiness.

when denial proposes its schemes i listen because it's never betrayed me. when time drafts its treaties i sign them without even reading. because no matter what i feel i don't want to be enemies. no matter what is missing there's still less i could have.