Here Where I hide in the evenings

Here, where I hide in the evenings, there is a long polished bar who
has held so many men's pipes and pints in tankards, shining glory wins
to the very end. There is nobody to disturb me, I can watch the river
flow - drifting like a whisper to an unobtainable sea. The distant
salt-memory carried in my yacht dream, free. Lining the walls are
portraits of sailors, the ocean-worn furrows not hardening their soft
brows, the blue eyes sparkle at me and soften my scars. Sorrow is an
alien here, the mirrors deny my face a reflection.

Here where I hide in the evenings a kitchen of former food glory holds
how many memories of banquets and tales of far-off lands and parakeets?
I walk up and down clutching a peackock feather from a wedding of grey
velvet bliss. knives gleam sharp in the ultra glow light of night and I
am alone with thoughts of transporting the anguish from my interior to
your world on a train of blood.

Here where I hide in the evenings I drink "Brakespears" but don't get
drunk.

Here where I hide in the evenings I think a lot you know. I think like
I used to think about others and their hands and words of kindness.
Shame breathed her eyes upon me for holding their images. But here
where I hide in the evenings, tonight I'm thinking about you, and the
angel of shame is surfing the waves of some other's place of refuge.
For you said I could keep you here and my own hand and mind-flights
bring a shred of comfort.

Here where I hide this evening I am burning, dying - can't anyone see.
I leave my love of life a legacy. I am gone.