Your absence runs through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.

- W. S. Merwin

You're not worth it babe ( Read more... )

now
they are celebrating my demise
in taverns I no longer frequent

now
I drink alone
at this malfunctioning
machine

as the shadows assume
shapes
I fight the slow
retreat

now
my once-promise
dwindling
dwindling

now
lighting new cigarettes
pouring more
drinks

it has been a beautiful
fight

still
is.