It's bittersweet, this end.

Knock-kneed against the doorfacing,

set satisfaction for sunrise

Drunk dippy on the moon well and why,

for one more reason to go 'round

when the smugness of the sun

sets on my sofa of castrated feelings.

Some emotions, I swear

they're breaking me across

you and everything else that

smacks it's bubble-gummed, self-satisfied pleasantries

while staring across the steaming coffee

cusped in your attitude

that I've got it all wrong.

One good hand to brace the door,

the other to give my throat a lisp.

Don't know, don't how, don't know how

But that's what you get when

you never asked to be

*from here

*going here

*are there

*stay there

And you just thought I didn't like mornings.