A Toast

Taking your soul in plain sight

A boundless favor to free you from your happiness

That woman would destroy your mind as was mine

And in your hour of need, you would have only your hands

And as time would show, dear friend, they were too weak

Though her eyes are curved and cut like marbles

She is no more yours than the wind or the rain

Though her voice chases the wild dogs from your mind

She is a woman with only a short time to cast

That which her hips can bear and carry through the veil

Your head isn’t my prize, but more a surety

Your empty stare, shoring for my own angry heart

I can share with you my thoughts, uninterrupted

But how I wish you would comb your hair

And wash the blood from your lips

Do you think that woman misses you?

The same way I am certain mine longs for this touch

Get a hold of yourself, there are ten-fold waiting

To touch those breasts and she will receive

Sooner than you could imagine possible

A man does not do for a woman, but alas, for other men

Taking in glory like the smoothest silk and spinning destinies

Destinies that are lost in an instant to times infinite march

If a man gets lost in the trivets of or his own wanderlust

The pay for such a man is impotent indeed and won't buy bread

One man’s life is a small price to pay my friend

I breathe my last sane thought into your mouth and wipe my blade

Holding the last of my drink to your rigor mortis lips

A toast to your attentive ear and the end to your sorrow

Tomorrow I see her again, and all will not be well