Je Suis Désolé, I'm Drunk Again

Last night I thought I was in love 
Like a good man bent over with strange aches
The wind stirs
Sap and rotting wood
Castellated
Boyhood on my finger 
I am no one, with no past, as the music plays
I imagine myself
Rearranging myself like summer in a birdbath
Pouring 
A lonely idiom 
The dog's paw
Swollen as we dance
My eyes blaze through the hooks that pull me under 
The glaring verisimilitude
Spilling like the sunrise in the distance
Pulling the pin on us
I hear a saxophone in the City of the Dead
Made out of synthetic bones
A bleeding symphony
Jutting back and forth like daylight 
We are loveless and damned
Like an old, ensouled wreckage 
Like the mistakes we made at seventeen
Like November rain 
Like the boys you take home, the ones you name
The pretty ones, the dead ones
Foaming in pictures disappearing like the sun
My cherished urchin
My gentleman
Trying to say something witty 
A part of me would be lying if I said 
I never want this to end 
The way you look at me
The way I sink into wistful days
Your breath against my lips
Insisting on death.