As Long As Its You
When you breathe it is my name.
When you stare,
Your own eyes black pools,
Liquid movements synchronize my own.
Who knows me any better?
Naked throat? Beating heart?
You may heal. You may feed.
Whatever you do, as long as its you.
My ugliness raised in both hands
Almost expecting something from you
And if only I had a gun I woulda’ made you
And hated myself forever for being so desperate
If only I could believe
Then how easy it would be
Walking away leaving you alone
Free at last to wander endless starry nights I always dream of
Instead I let you
Tattoo blue around my mouth
Tell me that I’m privileged
After Last Call
Puke my guts out in the after last call parking lot
Of the now what am I gonna do
Still hometown married jails unavoided
Lucky having nothing to do with being alive
Benches wrapped in paper, nightmares unelaborate
Just boys with lighter fluid searching for someone sleeping.
Small places where no one would ever go
Unless like myself
They had to shunning stars.
Not likely to tell me anything I don’t already know,
Shut up you heart breaking fuck.
When will you leave my head alone?
Non-linear pissing all over the seat.
Secret lover of cities,
You spoke like something would matter,
Like a hundred years,
Like a gunga din,
Long into the locust day
You said it made all the difference
And what was it? Different than what?
Televisions and telephones no way related to any woman ever known
Who is willing to be a mother when even she must do the killing?
PD Lyons has been writing for along time and hopes to continue for even longer. Work has appeared in mags and zines in North America and UK. Two collections of poetry published by Lapwing Belfast.
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