(whata) flame
-a handheld th/fl/ing
child-friendly ;;

they have safeties for that

you know…
or so they say ;;

a th/fl/ing that sparks an ember,
(falselydecoratedbeingthatis)
with black Jacks on the side,
is brought home from work-
its future BRIGHT
and full of LIfE

“whatashame…”
to be tucked between couch cushions
unremembered in the frayed fabric of morning
while Somewhere Not Here

a
dealer
is laying out the cards
(-amatchlesscardwithfadingcolor-)
you have to play
Make. A. Move.
Raise. The. Stakes.

“whatayasay?”

giving those eyes that scandal eyes

thinking, while

pulling down a painted thumb –

smoke pouring through painted lips,

the dealer always wins.
lighting Spirits as steadily as drawing


moths to a flame,
loosening lips and belts.
the lighter shclicking playfully
guiding the way to a few new tricks
and a predetermined tip
OR, well,

NIGHT-



LIFE-
goes on and, already,


she wants to tangle that
egotistic



unappreciative jerk up in the
delicate and bony


prongs of her hands.
A drink, A-nother,


A drink, A-nother.
A cigarette, A-nother,


A cigarette, A-nother.
A sleek black dress,


stained with self-doubt and
a bed that,




repeatedly

(maybenotsomodestly)


falling,


creaks


up and down and up and down.
S i l e n c e :


fumbling and sloshing through it





she goes,
searching shadow-draped walls,

“Someone?Anyone?God D*** it

(hidingunderclosedeyes)


AnsweR me!”
Shivering- because


she doesn’t feel that
it’s cold business,


it’s cold, it’s unbelievably
f*******





so / cold
(
all





alone
)
without words.





with a dying dream.

and everyone else seems to know something that she doesn’t:



-TIME

AFTER

-TIME



RUNS

OUT