16 (a long night)

A long night, my love, my sweet sick sunrise,

my drunken dawn, my pearly, priceless doom.

Who but you?  Waiting in my blinking eyes,

churning in exhaustion—my reckless fume.

Dirty feet, white thighs and somebody's bride;

divorcee, chapped lips and laughter to lie for.

We had no shame but we both had our pride.

Never were you mine, never was I yours.

Never came the nevermore, the sorrow

for the lost cold war, the bickered, battered

bedroom sores, mascara charred and marrow

bored.  I hate how they knew we would shatter.

     And whoever invented the promise

     had no love, made no concession, for us.

also embedded at The Believer Logger

also embedded at PEN

included in "Webcam Girls Read Sonnets" in Vice

podcast by InDigest

originally published in 1AM