my pearls

as i exhale for lack of strength

and leaning back

become part of this chair,

my bed

i barely have the say...

lacking the steam to

fake the dream...

"oh shit,.........." slipped from my mouth

my only conscious mumblings of

this last hour

"i am in none of those places".

she was there-

a million of shes everywhere

and alone again i shrink to find my glass-

and here i lounge,

smoking....

a beautifully wasted, neglected

piece of ass.

the worst about me is my honesty

the words which fall from

mouth to waxed ears

dead fruits for all to see-

and trampled under swine, my pearls

like all my dancing girls

i guess, i long too badly

to be famous

so i tell you everything, and

i suckle, and you're gone and

i move on --

i've said too much...

-it faked my soul out,

bought me with that singular

touch from a lovers hand