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Plastic Flowers

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Pleading first for the elusive promise of a kiss
And second for the faint remains of plastic flowers
Deceased with traces of her perfume.
Knowing well that the reverberation of your voice
Bouncing off the hallway and into me
Will hit me harder than any punch I could ever throw.
And I know I will find myself praying to softly
Choke on the inevitable consequence
And wake with both feet beyond
this front porch. Instead I will find myself
Buried deep in lightly salted
Pillowcases, and drunk with your cologne
Waking to the soft warmth of your breath whispering
I love you.




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