"lune."

this painting sits, so fresh and determined.
his head is locked, and you are no exception
to his policy of not extending keys..
you see the humanity in him.
the nervousness behind his smile.
and the continuem is warranted.
selfish aggrevations..
its a gift you toss and turn to extend..
you writhe and bite your tongue as you try to articulate, the swell that grows within you..
the sunrise that his face produces..
you can see it in the eyes of every skeptic.
you've wanted more, but what was there to take?
play those games like other girls..
play those games so you can move between his sheets.
wrap your legs around his chest,
the official apology.
and they all play games like this..
you just want to hold his hand and rub his back.
eyes bore into your temples..
when you take your hair down.
these pins pause and collect.
truimphs can rain down all day.
but you are still a morbid thinker at night.
the eye is set to the back of the room.
it catches lines in its peripheal.
you are close but its unnoticable.

/close./