New Day. New Poem(s)

"What You Can Do When You Die"

Time cannot erase
The mistakes I've so carelessly made
The least of which
Being,
To fall victim to your careful smile
And even more precise words
My actions only left a suppression of guilt
For the other mean to come across your path

Other whores have known their place
Among men willing to risk the thought of disease
When they lay your body down
But I, I couldn't be less convinced
Of your body as a fallen temple
Where the stones have been scattered
Among the rest of the wreckage

A girl who'd sell herself, short,
Is no woman to me

A girl whose body is trashed and tattered and torn
Is no lady I'd lay my health on the line for

I'd rather dig a hole
To the center of the earth
Than be known as the boy
Whose last ride was in a hearse
Bought and paid for
From one lonely night
Spent with a local girl
At the end of the bar
Who spent more on the occasion
Than quite possibly her dress
Which would inevitably find its way to the floor
As we casually danced in the puddle
Of blood-red satin fabric
Like the warmth of the sand

On a deserted beach,
Built for just us two,

We got wet in the sand
And dried ourselves in the ocean

I took her for a walk
Until we reached the pier
And we looked out at
The tiny city made of our ashes
And she took my cash advancement
As the payment for her company
As the sky filled with stars
And I can see the one I named after her
Still, on a clear, cool night in July
...Ophelia...