Slovak & Jewish Bones on a Valentine's Day Date (Rainy Day Woman #1)

When we should have stayed awake? Does
the slept now remember what had been spoken
in through the sheets of our shambling pillows? Cacky
legs of fleshy birds stomping puddles where the milky
curds had flown, "We just couldn't work." There's so
little that we have shown, and in tongues of bothering
children we wept in jealously of their parents.
Our hands were holding to her breasts grasping fingers
of a broken handed pianist.
We played our song.

It was so seemingly friendly, the longing length
of which we had gone. Drove out to the thought
that we were wrong. I'm bothered now, thanking
her for being with me, some sleep.
We just need some sleep.

In those growing nights, why couldn't
we just try starting fresh, home again near
the range of loving flats, growing pains
and roaming cats, there's so much we could say,
there's so much left we have to say. So we don't
speak much at all. In our cords have hands bit
seems of our tweed jackets, lettering the cricket
font on our legs, pressed denting gloves
on her inner sleeves. So much in vain,
clinging to the hope of a bloating gorge,
in less prettier terms.

i know how much we've left for our love,
or whatever...but to such lengths
a Slovak goes for Jewish bones.
It's beautifully written, as always.
You're stuff has gotten more and more poignant.
Poor advice.
I'm really, really, really starting to enjoy your work. This was really beautiful to read, the way the words just fall together, flowing and elegant, yet so full of emotion. Amazing
This deserves so much love. Even The few instances where I thought it could of been worded better, I'm still sure you know them already and have valid reasons for them being that way. I can of course say them, if you wish?
This is nigh on perfect.