Written by George Gad Economou
three in the morning, murk outside
the window; I still wait to
hear from you. silence all day
long, not a word, a text, not even a smile. where
are you, I wonder, what are you
doing all day? are you
thinking of me or are you
elated that I’m away and you’re finally
able to lose yourself in
his arms, draining my image
from your mind?
I light a cigarette, drink
a beer, and exhale sheaths
of blue smoke.
I can move on, liberated from
your harrowing image.
free to find someone new; I want
you to arrive, sleep in my bed, rest
your head on my
shoulder; dreams are condemned
to quick, painful, grueling
forget you—like you’ve forgotten
me, no matter your vehement reassurances. I’ll
erase the memory of ever
I’ll return to the fast and quick, to
rough brunettes that handle rotgut better than bikers,
to cheerful blondes that sink shots of mescal with refulgent grins,
to redheads that guffaw when they set the world on fire.
it’s back to morning
hooching, to easy
drugs—that’s my only love, the EDGE.
you were a brief break, unworthy
of the time wasted away from swaying barstools.
Text © George Gad Economou
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