FOUR

Can you see the love
swelled in the guitarist's eyes
pouring over supple cheeks
on cold January nights?

I've seen that love before
cuddled up in vinyl
as train tracks collided
tumbled in the East
with all the other wilted beams
and dirty flowers.

We are walking through bitter again
shocks of life sting our cheeks
as memories of summer just drift by.
Is this the love left from our dreams?
Swelling in the eyes of hoodlum boys?
Sailing off to northeast highways
bent cracks of tea-filled seas
Amid the great november
Amid our beautiful disease?

Music in Regine, 2007