Bare backs and empty tables at night,
Standalone soldier for a book called “me.”
To sleep, to breathe, heavy scent: smell delight,
Something more prevalent when eyes can see.
But does not the heart see marks on the walls?
Where people have gone and left; that’s where “I’ve” been.
Although I answer the numerous calls,
I am still happy (that’s where you fit in)
Sun-burned noses and a couple bendy straws,
Knowing the words, and so, and so, and so.
Seeing the whiskers but touching the paws,
Shows the nativity of stop and go.
Euphorias picnics come out to play,
Do me a favor just sit down and stay.