Thousand-yard stare

Don't look at me again
That milky skin
And rose of red lips
Cigarette between
Spindly fingers a
Cold collection of
nights gone past
Stills in my mind
It's always the same
Smoke wreathed about
Black eyes stained
Doll arms spread about
Porcelain love
My glasses steamed
By the faucet's time and
last last night's cheap
wine
your body draped about
the old clawfoot tub
rusted away just at the
edges of
imagination
Of you in my arms
While the alarm rings
In a shiny new day
And the bed runs cold
Like blood
And you're still there
That look on your face
And the curve in your back
When I try to wake you
Against the currrent
Her face remains the same
Made a sillouhete by
God's hands
And the sirens's call
Shaken into consciousness
Bleary eyed
Stone
I awoke to death
Just like every mourning
But this was a
Dream.