mcccliv

He did say (– why’d he say –)
“Thanks for the draft of
my heart” with the
lights out. (– ? –)  I lie 

down to close his eyes.

A moment keeps—

Las Vegas is so
where you are with me.
And that’s only the
nub of it;

endorphins and
unexpressed realism.
Feening ain’t all it’s
cracked up to be, huh?

This position—

Hand over eyebrow and
arm over sun.  Milk it
like the sap you
so deftly con

tinue to craft.