don't wanna spend another day here

that final stop at the end of the world
where the sun melts my spirit and my crazy
notions of eternity
all over the ocean horizon line.
the cliff could be suicide could be crying
could just be sleep and diary and a snorted blue

off the fallen rearview mirror
as the fog bank's fuzzy horizontal
meets my heretofore life like a faded slash
across the word love to make truth of the "like." Correct me

if I am wrong, but you were too high to remember
me singing Smokey Robinson
while slow dancing your sick body across the dirty laundry
and licked stamp bags
on your mother's floor
and you were child like and smiling
and I was trying to keep you alive
because the dose was too much and the love was too big
and your eyes were too blank for any of it to survive
if it fell asleep for even a moment and I didn't

but I do and I don't but I do
and I couldn't anymore, but I did
because you asked me to, because you needed me
because I knew the words
and I knew you
and I meant it all: my lips on your neck
my unwitnessed tears, my most perfect
private queen cry unheard
and our sad desperate onebody reflected black and grey
on the glass of the big screen
like some silent old reel
because even when it happened it wasn't,
but I grabbed you and said
take up your bed and walk
and when you stumbled I sang
something painful on purpose,
and put us into the akashic-
the lovers poorly
decoupaged over the falling tower,
a tarot and a flaming heart, all for you who never

loved the life saving serendipity of shed diamondback skin
left lying on the dirt of the could-be cliff
under the front tire at the exact moment I stopped,
three thousands miles away and I said it still won't be enough
but I can't jump
because if a lover
falls into the sea and no one is there to hear her
she doesn't live to tell somebody, anybody
that we had this one, this one
really beautiful moment.