sometimes

beneath my window we lay exhausted each breath challenging words to conquer them. our backs against the floor our eyes on the naked surface of the moon her hand in mine, my head in the clouds, one foot on hells half-acre the other wandering aimlessly on the road to destruction. my eyes were closed ceaslessly writing elaborate metaphors on the back of my eyelids to save this moment for later inspiration for dreams. she loved me and i had tied myself into so many love me knots i could not decide whether to believe or make believe, so i remained silent allowing my naked eye to skinny dip in painted light and ink blots of imagination until i was standing i to minds eye with the reality that i had no idea what love was