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Been a while
Since his mind put together words
To make them rhyme
With style
But there are times
In the present
When the past comes back
Like a pesky rhyme
Like a boomerang
Or a snake that coils and then
Uncoils to spit out
Words never sang
Like venom
That gives life
Or the waves of a sea
That steal your slippers away
The fire in her sighs
The bridges they built
And how the bridges burned
Collapsing like her closing eyes
How they burned like the last rites
And how they smiled at the people
In the streets below
For Five Days and a thousand nights
How can a man live through?
Five days
Yet remember a thousand nights
Doesn’t add up, does it for you?
Including the night of the pink stole
That a woman wore
And a man with a red bandana
And words that explained her soul
Every picture he never drew
Every song she sang
For someone else
Every damn woman he knew
And he still does the maths
It still adds up to five days
And strangely, a thousand nights
Like journeys on invisible paths
The women walking
The barren waste of his mind
With every sip he remembers
Their words of praise, and of mocking
But the one he got away from
That voice that makes every sip
One to forget, One to remember
How can a woman make
Five days into a thousand nights?
