Monday, 16 April 2012

those of those

all and far too often
i see the faces of all of those i love
in those of those i don't.
and i can't run away
or hide behind what's left behind
those bitter eyes that memorised
the memories that stretch beyond
whatever we've become
way back into our past.
the last time that i see you
is something i don't need to think about
or fathom just quite yet.
"would that you could touch this angel
in a clutch of snakes" sings blake
to make me smile so sadly once again.
and i guess it's time to leave
because that clutch just doesn't seem
to matter much
or count for more than
wishful thinking anymore.
so close the fridge at 3am,
a tin of curried herring in your hand
and wait for dreams to fuck you up once more.