I go night fishing and
cast out for dreams.
Memories nibble my hook;
I won’t take the bait, because
the best ones are bottom feeders.
I have more left to say than I have things to do. I can’t tell you to leave if you don’t know how to move. You’re a full glass, spilling splurges of wine all over the floor. I am tempted to clean your stains, but we’ve been here before. You break, break, break, away and I pull you back in. You break, break, break, down and sometimes I forget how to swim. If we learn to live without...