Nearer enough to catch a brew’s scent
dripping off of morning lips
as I’m mourning the value of less
than a drop of this attention’s lack.
It’s unusual in that the worth of nothing expands
in proportion to how the nothing is defined.
Portrayed in flowing gowns,
staged in Broadway colors,
intangible is palpable to a point of feeling
close enough to catch a fleeting touch.
It’s unusual that by noting a crushing sensation,
course is never abandoned rapidly;
that I’d vow cold turkey in bathroom mirrors
before a distorted vision of you reappears,
and I can taste caffeinated scandal
without understanding its meaning.
( ❤ Mitch)