Boatman's Elegy

her hand cold with the death of romance obligatory touch we watched it erode like a mountain chipped away by cheap winds irretrievably sad but still the flowers roll out, the cards keep coming the quick peck kisses and morning goodbyes the syringe shooting shared history into nostalgic veins as dark radio rains throw branches against our chopin windowpanes forever stuck in this merry mad dog affair nightfall- sleep cascades death valley summer selling brooklyn bridge coffins that could fill mystery oceans in the space that lay between us in this long forgotten sunken ship bed