I lose everything in the end, <br />when the lights are turned out and my tongue dries. <br />Hanging by the skin of my teeth, <br />I can’t hold onto the rope that twists above the quicksand <br />any longer and so I cross my fingers like hangnails, <br />as I fall from the grace of your most loving grasp. <br />Succumbing to the fatal flaws of my weakening humanity <br />for whatever reason I don't resist sinking below the surface muck <br />and into my own personally autographed glossy eight by ten <br />of my perfected and patented death mask, <br />which is suitable for framing… <br /> <br />I lose everything in the end, <br />when the rain beats the hell out of the thatched roof above my head, <br />overflowing the gutter spouts and drowning my dreams in flash floods <br />down a cooked duck’s back… <br />My tongue dries, becoming thick with clichés and innuendos <br />every time I try to explain how I expected the loss <br />Because in the end, when it really counts <br />and because nothing wants to die.... <br />Only then my love, do I remember the scent <br />of your shoulders and nap of your neck <br />and how lovely you wore your hair… <br /> <br />2007 © T Sheridan<br /><br />Ted Sheridan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/because-nothing-wants-to-die/
