Love. That beer-battered heart in a cage we vilify.
Lefty crushes helter-skelter, bouncing through the willows,
Through pillow talk and talking us down,
I’ve traded my treats for the hilltop bungalow,
Coated in amber, bleeding mauve through the cracks
Of a broken glass sunset.
It’s time to be grateful,
Give heed to the deeds of the lovers above us,
The hour is less than a full night’s sleep away.
The power in my chest is a dull plight’s steep decay.
The dour sung frets come full sky scenes to play.
I fummeled with redness
And pummeled my headrest,
So the only sleep night’s fair
Is a sleep’s nightmare.
My antagonists are into it,
They’re masochists, they go away.
The field is petals
Of rose and gunmetal,
The incubus Fahrenheit
Has me in its iron sight
It’s there and trite, they’re not welcome here today.