Call the play.

A squeeze,
Held too long.
Short words,
Unsaid.

A smile,
A linger,
Flattery paid.

And when
Masks shed,
Will nectar
Drip sweet?

Birds 'n shit. You know.

New love, flute and fife,
Have you got the new life?
Polite, pretty, pink, and rose,
When she gonna slow?

When you stop smiling silly
Or will it be before that another
Makes her sore.

When will filthy fun
Become boorish and brass?
When will her sass
Be nails on board and tinny?

And her ass cute and fleshy
Sag, and her trash talk be trashy?
Your chin a bit narrow
Become gawky and shallow?

New love, flute and fife,

Have you got the new life?

Polite, pretty, pink, and rose,

When she gonna slow?

When will moments lose their glow?

Fall in line with the rest of time

And scare like minnows in school,

Like fallen trees in the underbrush?

Dodge that line many a time,

But it comes like friends that whine.

And mornings become droll,

And slowly she shortens and widens;

What was once a maiden

Now a troll.

New love, flute and fife,

Have you got the new life?

Polite, pretty, pink, and rose,

When she gonna slow?

When she gonna slow?

Could be?

Not envy,
Nor a goddess.
Not excitement,
Nor fancy flavors.

Just a friend.
Just honesty.
Just a kind face.
Just a couple laughs.

Only one.
One time with
One pair of eyes.

Dark night

I wake myself,
Whimpering at night
For your warm body.

Heavy eyelids,
Tender soul,

Self-doubt
Calling.

I try to Song.

I came down over
The small hill
And saw your covered eyes.

With charlatan
And caramel.
Some turmeric
And graveyard bells.

The fall expected
And the spring.
But not in that order.
Your rules not respected,

You spoke twice.
It didn't take that long
To know I'd dug my
Heels in.

The glimmer of hope
The fog and the sunrise.
I walked in and I saw
Your eyes. Your eyes.

With charlatan

And caramel.

Some turmeric

And graveyard bells.

Morning comes twice.

Morning comes twice.

With charlatan

And caramel.

Some turmeric

And graveyard bells.

Tin cups with stale water

Visions I forgot after

I knew the lies.

New

What chance
For ticks and tocks
For the rat a tat tat
The clicks and clacks
Of confidence?