tonight:
drink a good beer with me
in the quiet of your place
and let me fall asleep.

may this panic pass
by knowing you’ll be here.

do you need it tonight?
you ask, gently, I’m sure,
for this is not the first time,
or the second or third…
there must be another way.

you know I’m crying for this
because I musn’t deprive,
and I promised to give up
the blade.

so what next?
how long until
I lower my exotic standards
just to get more and more?

I know you don’t want me to go there,
and I know that’s why you’re asking.

and maybe I’m aware
of the road I always take,
but I still need to trust
that your ears and shoulders
and strong arms are enough
to palliate the pain.