Night After The High’s

When the party ends, how far shall we stay. Till the stereo screams in heat and old torn bass? How long can our shared eye gaze Erstwhile stay dialed in to this blinkering gloom, And when the party ends, Does the silent distances of his sweaty clasp yell out in rage. Regret the stained sheets and her insides. When the party ends, do we strive not to look each other in the eye, all the yester connections of meaning now, gone. Or should we seek us, our sense of who our Lucids were. When this façade ends, How do I know. Will I kick myself out, leave when the going is good Or corner to blind lights and sketch this Man made disaster. When the party ends, Will it end? Or should I just Go