cough on coffee leftovers

siad

lover's late,
might be fate,

olive oil hair.

you're the one, you're the son,
you're the promised heir.

somewhere, you recall a boy,

drank the finest tea.

now you're alone with desert sun, dying dynasty.

now you stink like Marlboro and last night's maleficence.

disappeared, like always, dear,

but you had your reasons.

drunk on floors, near strangers' doors, life's the strangest force

thus far,

you recall

your father's car

sitting in the driveway.

my way, your way, highway.

is this new love, or 'nother hell,

tell me/ kiss me/ let me dwell

on what makes your tongue

taste like sulphur.

one of us just might be drunk,

one of us in love.

your jacket makes you kind of punk,

and the way you dove

into the sea at five am.

you're the one i see again, when i close my eyes.

truth or lies, you're dirt inside,

with carnations on your lips and around your hips.

you're the sweetest thing since dips

of maple syrup.

bitter boy with butter brain,

you're a certain kind of pain

that destroys from tip of toes to the top of head.

of course,

you won't hear from me,

the wind,

hardly hears the ship whose course

it has set to hell.

because

i do love you, let me dwell

on how your tongue

leaves trace of sulphur in my lung,

the one that still recalls the day

your cheating lips called me away,

said i could stay between the bottle and your throat.

you said i smelled like

gold and

carnations looked like

carnations felt like

carnations,

reincarnation

of your childhood dreams,

but i'm all dried out.

leaves and stems crumble to bits,

and you're drinking at the ritz,

back to being the renowned

heir

of the dying dynasty.

i say,

wear

your golden power while you can, boy,

and i'll stay here, on foreign

land. troy,

golden city sinking slowly in the golden sand,

it's a pity you could show me something he

can't.