This is part of a project I worked on for a friend a few years ago. What a journey he’s gone through!
As the night begins to shine its light on the west– waking Pacific eyes, this one does not sleep.
But dreams in speeds brushed tight; the lure of stale nights.
Have another drink, just a taste to cure the nip– mixed with a lover’s hot breath and cotton briefs.
Learning as he goes, willing to con and weave, hiding his true self from the world. What a pity he cannot learn in mimsy when the day glows low and candles perk up flames burning spoons to bend and crust
his wild heart fills–lust for another man, suppression finally erupts from within.
And now he sits in wallows, makes treks in dirt and mud, up blood through veins he yearns and wastes away.
Tequila did not chase his demons out, just wines and dines them through another night on pills and fairy dust.