There are nights
when my head is lost
like a flock of sheep on the heights
I wonder, what is the cost
of me when I doze off
enveloped just in two thoughts
how I like her and how I want her
I'd better play crosses and naughts
or explode balloons or explore baboons
but how can I.

There are nights
when I turn off the bedroom lights
with my eyes closed
I am still seeing
my hungry, angry heart exposed,
and no one's ringing.
It comes again, two thoughts:
how I like her and how I want her,
she has her past and I just have a sore eye
like a yesterday's paper I am tired of lying
though my eyes are dry
my heart is crying.

There are nights
when my one pound of flesh
forgets its rights
and I am engulfed in a flash
of a memory
of liking and wanting and saying
how I like her and how I want her
when one and one was three.
I know,
there were the nights.

∞