Cynicism and a Glass of Wine
By: Katie M. Moss
Love is always, always fleeting
Never felt and void of meaning
Fingers slipping from the feeling
Fingers slipping, grasping, reeling
It escapes us turn by turn--
One more loss is one more earn.
Shadowy cane drags you away
It’s not your turn; it’s not my play.
My face is masked.
Every day.
Every day.
Fingers fold the cobwebs of dreams away.
I hope they’ll go-- I pray they’ll stay.
Cups of coffee, pints of beer
Sultry lips and hips so near.
Violent, violent aches my heart.
Dreadful, aching, tears will start.
Kiss me darling, till you’re dead.
Kiss me through my foggy head.
Dreams are made--- to forget.
Love is made, but never spent.
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