end game

i lay back in your arms again,
tired, weary of trying to be what i am not…
i only want you, now, this moment.
you roll my hand between yours
and i touch each finger, like a blind poet
attempting to lose myself
in the sensation of seeing…
i rest my head on your chest
and feel the urgency of your impulse to crush me…
there are only words between us;
words we feel need to be there in explanation
for this strange night…
for what we cannot explain.

love lingers…
but we cannot grasp abstracts wrapped
around each other…
music entertains us; but the smoke frees us from it
and we reach for something to tie us down…
excuses…
my words dress me in untouchable pauses,
fragrant dilemmas,
yours, toss you down the road with other free spirits…
and beyond them lies the truth…

we are here, forever, for a night;
feeling what two people must and cannot afford…
wishing to still the indifferent race of time…
wanting more than we can see or touch inside walls…
pushing away sadness for the end of a dream;
knowing tomorrow will crush
and eat away the sensations and the will
to continue hope…

soliloquies...
endgame
ja allen