All this whatnot in terms of moment of the moment.
This socially constructed fantasy of connection, social or otherwise.
The morning after the party.
The party into the morning, that still leads
Vapours and hollow.
Forty years ago, or yesterday.
Choosing to defer that which waits.
Or driven, without choice
So easy to say I know where this will end, and
Such difficulties with the easy.
Where there is some afterglow that could be
Love has come to touch my soul
With someone who really cares
Though why is the shame in one direction, and where no afterglow is