love poetry for the disillusioned
I’m not asking for much,
maybe a sunday night on the
couch,
the taking of pelham one two three
on the classic movie channel,
something on the stove,
pasta, steak,
I don’t know,
something easyand maybe I’ll
even buy a lamp,
some light for
your hair to catch
as we sit,
time escaping,
sinking to a civil
and unexpected
place
okay. im gonna start writing again no matter what. you’re my muse.




