Coffee Steam and City Light

If love is more than scripts
and telling lies
it lives right here
beneath the city skies

In coffee steam
and streetlamp yellow beams
drooling on the sleeve
inside the dreams

You fell asleep
while the movie played on
city light cutting through the blind
till dawn

Hand open on my leg
fingers slack
chipped nails
from the heavy daily rack

Siren draws a crooked line
on the street
motorcycle coughing
in the summer heat

Kettle rattling soft
upon the burner ring
matching how your breathing
starts to sing

Couch is too small
springs fighting the spine
cat stole the blanket
crossing the line

Socks are mismatched
striping on the black
toes tucked in tight
against the slack

Mugs leaning close
rims touch the side
coffee rings on wood
where we reside

Music humming low
inside the room
chasing out the shadows
and the gloom

Built from leftovers
and missing parts
tempers flaring
when the panic starts

but here the ghosts sit down
upon the rug
bored by how we give
a little shrug

Tomorrow you will curse
the morning bell
trip on boots
and enter into hell

I will sweat the deadline
and the rhyme
chasing melodies
and losing time

Dragging heavy feet
into the door
carrying the noise
and wanting more

but seeing you face down
upon the bed
fixes all the noise
inside the head

One day the couch
will finally break a spring
fabric giving up
on everything

But this will stick
like prints upon the glass
sleeping while the heavy hours pass

You snore a little
soft and stupid sound
I laugh into the hair
that is unbound

Sun will drag us up
and start the day
but for now the weight
is here to stay