clickity clack

restless nows
strung together like bloodshot beads
scraping pleasures from senseless drags
even the masochistic knight smiles not

stilted transpositions
of unbudding wants
stuck in the mud of an echoing day
even a nurtured swelling
can hardly lift my weary head

when lows are real
and tenderness turns anaerobic
the darkest corners no longer havens
perhaps words
splattered
upon dreary skies
drizzling time upon my burning white skin
will throw patterns that amuse me
make me cock my head
to see my own Rorschach
sticking its tongue out
and poking me in the eye

or maybe i can bathe in the click of some heels
their sound a most perfect spice
a will, erect and with purpose
just knowing there is a strut
whose Morse code i recognize so well
is sure to salt
my tender husk

tango upon my shriveled need
let me hear your pumps
all staccato and clickity clack
a whiff of bubbling intent
just a taste
before i crawl away and suffer more dreams
that never come