The Dirtiest of Words

An accidental collaborative poem written entirely in text messages
between Wandering Savage and Holden Lyric.

Happiness, just take a seat.
I promise to keep you entertained.

Oh happiness if only you knew how
great I’d be at giving you a lap dance.
You’d stay seated longer.

Happiness, if only you saw the way my pupils
dance when you fill the room. Your holy
hallowed presence makes me whole.

Happiness, I wish you’d look at me with that
fragile, elegant smile coupled with that oh-so-perfectly
timed semi-rehearsed hair toss you used to throw at me by
the lunch tables.

Happiness, name your price. I’ll pay cash I’ll pay an arm and
a leg, an artery, a heart—name that tune sing me to sleep keep me
warm keep me sane keep my feet light put a skip in my step give
me a method to all of the madness.

Happiness, don’t tell me to keep waiting for days we both know you
have jumped the carpool lane into the off-ramp of yesterday.

And now you’re just a blip in my rearview mirror the asshole in my
peripheral vision has his brights on I can’t see you driving there I can’t
see you with both hands on the wheel I can’t hear your stereo I can’t smell
your cigarette smoke why don’t you ever come find me? Why don’t you
know how to linger?

Happiness, there may be no proper way to end this. All of this. Not this
meta-dedication and personalization of you. Not till you’re mine. In my arms,
your hair resting on my chest, Bon Iver in the background.

Then, maybe then…

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