Your lips move, but I can hear what you are thinking
All the sleepy conversation melts away
I watch my pen skip across the page
I know this feeling
I am dreaming
The same dream repeating
Where you and I are drunk on Chardonnay
halos of candlelight dance across your golden smile
and the warm night sweats every smooth surface
I drop my notebook and the cover flies open
You say, "You should write about yourself"
"Nobody knows where you have been,
"And it may be roses to somebody else
where you see only dandelions."
I am wrestling for a way to show you
that my handwriting is constantly changing
but I can't find the words for "nothing stays the same"
So you just sit back and look up at the stars
there are a million of them
and you put your hands this wide
like taking them home would be within your grasp
The pressed khaki seam of your slacks
comes down almost flat against your thigh
and there is wisdom and tiredness behind your eyes
even though you say you are up for poker
But suddenly the alcohol makes me slip
I can't remember where we were
so you call me a taxi
and I watch as your shirt billows between buttons
to reveal the buffed satin of your belly
as you cover the fare
When, God, the last thing I wanted
was for you to be a gentleman