No more late night phone calls
when friends aren’t easy to find
You can always feel when your lover
has somebody else in mind

There is distance in their silence,
and their eyes won’t look for yours
Their kisses, cold and unattended;
like jail cells and morgue doors

Your own needs seem shallow
where calm waters run deep,
and your monsters come closer
to getting good sleep

With hurt, we wish the world away
With hate, we only hurt more
And no one in their right mind
has found what we’re looking for

I’ve given ‘til emptiness took me,
and reaped none of what was sewn
I’ve looked for light in cardboard boxes,
and love on the telephone
But here I’ve the dark, where lust is a flood
to all I should now own

For flight is all that’s left of a life
once our fall is broken

Poetry from Fancy Gravity by Shane Windham
E-book and paperback now on Amazon.com

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