To Hold and Be Held

God at least let me steady my breath before I go Each pleasure was immense But the grip of the vine the grip of the vine Her cigarette wedged aside her wrinkled ring finger The tan line from her bra strap Reminded me of you Margaret and something you had said To hold and be held I wanted you inside of me and you toasted the town Tasted your tongue Clasping my gown Was it only enough to make you laugh? In gaze or grasp completely utterly helplessly broken The jeopardy soft dared not be spoken of If the obituaries and plans Were all so circumstantial to demand of and declare: "We don't need poets we need pistols To frolic on the bandstands and shoot through your windows" A teller of stories a teller of lies Eerie coming home to steal the prize I saw the mountain lion again It was me who almost killed him At the drive-in movie Margaret I thought I saw you sobbing Only at summer's end is it me you would be admiring Arguing between the pawn shop and the quick loans' exposed wiring My expression in your glasses I almost saw you smiling