Mindless Reception

In my head up is down and down is up and the moon is an illogical crescent, love is infinite and always searching. You don't have to mind the odds because when the evens add up you'll still be sticky and wet, waiting out in the rain on my doorstep singing corny love songs with a phonograph in your hand. You lay it all down on the table for me to follow but I see Neptune in your eyes and brush strokes distract me from your utterance.

I wonder if I'll meet you again in the afterlife, long after the sun burns out and the curtains close on my vanishing act. There's an expiration date stamped onto my foot and a tattoo of Jesus Christ on my tailbone, it's one of those things you want to take back but no amount of lazers or skin treatment can fade him. Fireflies touch our noses and the light brings tears to my eyes but you can't see them, the witching hour blends to dawn and pink, orange, and yellow paint the sky.

Maybe if we were friends instead of lovers you'd find someone new instead of hopelessly hanging onto my shoulders, I'd see my reflection more clearly in the mirror, and my red peacoat would fit me again like it did last fall.