Creatures Caves

here's a couple older ones.

morning. nothing again
but recollections of days
i memorized when
you walked by
and stopped to say hello.
i imagine you standing
stooped before a broken mirror (shallow
bathtub stained linoleum cracked)
as you feel your bones
jut under your skin.
sunrise. you leave me alone
to write stories of your life.
i sit on an empty porch
listen to birds chirp quietly.
too early for the sun to scorch
the pale faces of daisies. they bob peacefully
while i fantasize
about telling you to just let yourself
fall. in. love. wise
words for such a young girl
you'd say, boots smacking
against the pavement as you'd walk away.
you leave me lacking
words.
in the air my fingers trace
the lines of your jaw i have almost felt
so many times, a place
for each finger tip.
the nights leave me to
imagine
your stubble rubbing through
the pale soft fabric of the sheets.
morning. maybe you take
a different route on some days
i step into the kitchen to make
you a cup of coffee you’ll never drink.
and hope, tomorrow, i’ll be able to ask your name

---

you woke up with a sore throat from singing and cigarettes
arms and legs akimbo on the hotel bed
mumbling
the sound of honky tonk piano ringing in your ears
ubiquitous piano
hanting you in your deepest thought stilling dreams

i'm afraid to reach out
every time i do you disappear

how many times i woke up to your sunburned face
and bright white smile
amphetamined
blissful
after a long night alone outside the brick walls of the city
bleach blonde hair tossed fingers running through it
lanced through with the tired bass strains of gibson guitars
legs crossed, naked, you shine with wonder and insomnia

your love too big to contain
overflowed three marriages before you turned 30
it floods the pillows and drugs me senseless but i shake my hips and arch my back
you lick your parted lips

mr lewis i stand in the front row and beg your attentions with starved adoration
mr lewis i stand at the delta of the back alley humming blues and waiting for the chorus of your strung out life
mr lewis i love your enthusiasm
mr lewis i love your pounding heart and over the top senseless youth dancing sock footed in the muddy grass
mr lewis i love the undulations of your voice they're a railroad train sex object
mr lewis i love your long fingers on moaning keys while you shake your hips and throw your head back whinnying
mr lewis i love i love i love your name and i say it as i raise my head off the pillow

louisiana boy
jerry lee
a cloud in my bed disappearing as the power cuts out

good morning