unfinished

Keep beneath the waves you said,
we’re only lonely ‘til we’re dead.
But lonliness can be your friend,
if you let condescend you,
as you go.

I could write you a sonnet tonight,
But they say I’m not much a poet.
And I could write you a line if you like,
but it’s not like that means much at all to you

Nettle stings are a frequent past,
I’ve been rubbing mine to make ‘em last.
I’ve been hoping they’d go away.
I’ve been wishing you wouldn’t stay,
but.

I could give you a sonnet tonight,
But they say I’m not much a poet.
And I could leave you a line tonight.
But, I’m afraid you wouldn’t notice,
you never even notice.