Nectarine

Lips tattered with melancholy 
Plough through dancing eyes like burnished grace notes
In the crucible of wayward manuscripts 
I think of you on moonlit evenings
Like a glittering downpour in a pastoral picture of December
Drunk and nocturnal
I am a Daddy's boy at heart 
Wearing a mechanical star for every confession 
Mr. How Can I Help You?
Mr. Asserting My Dominance
Isn't it strange 
How quickly we forget and remember 
When we were poets
Masturbating in the forest 
I watch the nightjars and the acacias
Like dusk weaving through the milky trees
Cigarette ash spilling onto my jeans 
You were playing your guitar in the rain
I was nectarine 
Clawing through the bells of solitude
Downstream where gutted syllables revel
A myriad of roses breathe like dirt under my fingernails 
In a pool of heather and blood 
Adorned with pure sweat
Adorned with the vanity of luminous memories 
Like a song I can't get out of my mind
A never-ending bliss, that Filth of Life 
Kissing you slowly.