without you

It was the spit in my eye

As you walked away

You're cigarette still

Burning

Lying idle in the ashtray.

Streams of smoke

Dancing in streamers through

The air

Dust particles settling in the

Dying light of the Summer

Rays

Reaching their tentacled hands

Through the back teased valves

and roadways of veins.

I cut a line and shake my head. 

There's a tap out stripper at my door

Holding rock gut whiskey and smoke

Chemically refreshing in the humid

Southern heat.

The bump brings the mind back

To Earth.

It's the survival of the fittest now

Tomorrow I'll wake up and she'll be shuffled out the door.

and ill brace myself to face the day

Without you