cocktails of some color

and nothing else involved in us nothing else involved us in one another and nothing banal, i bear fruits to this, i concoct, and the elixirs i've made, cocktails of some color, i only drink alone and when we're involved in this, this thing, thin and weary, dying or dead, overfed, i still drink alone, i drink without telling you i've drunk. i drink without telling you i'm drunk. i cough, and nothing else involved my nervousness revolves around this thing we've got ourselves involved in, developing a pair of wings and orbiting around this thing, this thing before we've caught ourselves evolving. and nothing else resolved in us nothing else is solved for us in one another and nothing simple, open-faced.  satin panties lined with lace. and all the liquors i have made, dreams i've played and beds i've laid in, cocktails of some color, i think i only think alone, i think alone without telling you what i'm thinking. i drink alone without telling you i've drunk. and nothing else can come of this, no staring back the eyes of sleep, no conquering the feeble weak and nothing else can come of this, i've drunk my cocktails without telling you i made them, without selling you the maiden voyage, and i would conquer all the new worlds you would open up between your sighs, between your unrepenting crimes compatible and hollowly free from any destiny, empty, i could fill your gaping cavities, but without selling you the maiden voyage, without telling you the plans i've plotted, all my moments spoiling rotten, i drink alone without telling you my thoughts. i seek alone without finding what i've sought. Written October 20th, 2001 © on Oct 20 2001 01:04 PM PST   10 • 0 • 8