bar poem #8

To My Love

Beforehand I apologize for I have relapsed
To the vice, the illicit drug
Called life, lust and wanton desires
I scribe poor tome to meant illuminate
Nothing but my own failures
And glamorize my own faults

There is a hard reckoning coming

I adapt to the heft of the wind

Yet, I scribble like a drunk on napkins
Trying to encapsulate the essence of you
And yet my musings prove unworthy
Of the hint of your time, your presence