The cup is lifted-
There’s more to be done
More to be rehearsed.
I can’t make more excuses for you
And I can’t wait any longer-
This dance was exhausting enough
And now even more boring alone.
Who was I to think that I wanted more-
The flesh of another to keep beside me,
In bed and affairs
That I thought I ought to keep going.
There’s promise in the night
And rings of vows and circles of despair.
Waking up just once more
I find that the stick
Was something I threw with passion
And I never needed
A stone to keep me warm.