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.