past present future

poking around in the back

area that you call your brain

silently connecting the dots

till the smile comes crawling slowly out

placing the hopes of days and tomorrow

right on the shoulders of yesterdays dreams

eager to show off the scars once more

softly making awake the beast

even if it means three times the work to be done

nothing gets in the way of

two nights of very believable

forgetfulness and a good bit of wine

used to make the stars shine

that our words sparkle in each other

until the midnight hour

readies us for our big conversation

eventually ending with our good night kiss

About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
This entry was posted in bliss, crazy, poem, poems, poetry, temperature and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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