Do you dance through the evening
with a beauty in your arms?
Perhaps those arms are feeling
that bit colder
I remember all those nights – the wine
glass after glass and all that
giggling
as we strolled way past tipsy
And I still visit tipsy more than
now and then
And I find I still have myself
a grand, old time
But it is only when I wander way down
past that post, that I find you again
As I curl up on that same old sofa
we so often did frequent
And there are moments that I meet you
through my own drunken demise
Other times, I hear you and your
northern beats
Whispering real warmth –
blankets
safely wrapped up in the dark
Tranquility. Contentment at its best
But when I wake and feel the sun
beating down on my hungover, bee stung
eyes and remember
how you are somewhere now
Resting, without me
The feeling of the night before
befits the feeling of right here
Without you
Gin and Tulips 