the third bar.

i find a map and draw a straight line over rivers, farms and state lines. the distance from 'a' to where you'd be. it's only finger lengths that i see. i touch the place where i'd see your face. my fingers in creases of distant dark places. i hang my coat up in the first bar there is no peace that i've found so far. the laughter penetrates my silence as drunken men find flaws in science. thier words mostly noises, ghosts with just voices. your words in my memory are like music to me.

i'm miles from where you are. i lay down on the cold ground. i pray that something picks me up and sets me down in your warm arms. after i have travelled so far we'd set fire to the third bar. we'd share each other like an island until exhausted close our eyelids and dreaming pick up from the last place we left off. your soft skin is weeping, a joy you just can't keep in.