AT WAR.

I am a sap.

Three recognizable characters grazed the screen for a mere 36 seconds.

wet, soaking wet.

There is no rain in my Scotland.

WAR, missing warmth.  

Summer stings, his hot breath .

The film finished, the theater roared, 

unaware, unaccompanied.

I hold my own hand, silently.

I am a sap.

The night licks my hot cheeks, I brake the bottle on the castle walls.

I walk along side her volcano, I profess my love, 

wasted on rocks, on hills and meadows.

I am gothic, numb as black lips. black tongue.

I want to mirror her, the undying, undeniable charm.

she is strong.

Instead, I embarrass myself.

I am a sap.

I spit in the sink of a strangers pale blue bathroom.

I watch the violinist with hunger, his socks match his shirt.

I count eyelashes, prominent and beautiful, though his words don't resonate.

A lover kisses his mouth, I am quietly enraged.

I steal cigarettes, I reapply lipstick repeatedly.

I prowl and prance, I ask to see his bedroom.

I fall asleep next to a man whose name I don't remember.

He holds me, we freeze, 

the embrace, lulling.

I am a sap.

I wake, 

in sheets I've never seen.

 lights on, bra off.

I piss, I eat a croissant. I use his ex's lipgloss.

I take pictures of his typewriter.  

Ten minutes spent trying to open the door to the main road,

his neighbor finds me, drunk, on God's day.

bemused, disoriented, I can't find home.

Daylight casts a hideous shadow.

so, I sleep until it's dark again.

I am a sap.

with no method to mayhem.

this is all I know 

of war,

ME VERUS ME VERUS ME VERUS ME.

coexistence.