This is my 12305th night

the first few thousand

you might as well forget

just as I have also

this one here is almost finished too



what remains is nicotine and yellow fingers



many before I've frittered to powder

and diced and minced into bits

in many expended, exhausted, escaped

extinguished, chasing the dragon

in a handful I got very close

towards the end, close to the end,

right at the end, towards morning,

in its passing drowned



what remains is alcohol and numbed dreams



some were endless and I set out and off

to wait where nonetheless no bus goes

all passed by till now, till 12305



in some you were present

but I was not entirely there

in many I sought you in my sleep

in many I sought you sleeping



what remains?



from here to mars was closer

than from me to you

I seemed to be made of anti-matter -

fairly dangerous!



it was my 12305th night

in which you appeared

you made your eyes glow

I'm sure with some fair reason

you were seeking the same thing and

for the same reason

you too were then drawn to me

you were my mirror image secretly

I drew you up and towards me

inside you - I saw myself; and inversely

Do not stir up love

before it is itself willing

before it is itself willing)