IS THERE SOMEWHERE ELSE?

You arrive late. Half-smile on your face. Your tongue is thick, I love the taste. “Welcome to my new place.” Haven’t seen you in a year, you come out of your skin. You’re tripping on your sneakers, beg I let you in. I say, “Where have you been?” You answer, “Where do I begin?” You’re coming early. I mean this guratively. Demeanor is cautious. Unprovocative. You’re still so fucking talkative. “Haven’t told you in a while, but you’re the reason for it all. You’re a vital complication I nеver seem to resolve.” I say, “Why all this silеnce?” You answer, “Mind’s been so violent, a tyrant.” You’re boring me with stories of your unproductive glory. You say the only thing as good as that was me. I put you in my bed again. I take you down like medicine. Revisit the same old regimen. Just substitute the gentleman.