It's a very definite look, tangible almost:
when briefly locked eyes leak
that he knows
that you know
that both of you know
what it's like to be
There.
Then comes the question of
who got where first and to what extent--
brain, heart, and loins being bartering chips.
Really none of it matters.
You're both on her list
and wound up in the same places in the end--
the liquor store and the drawing board--
and all you can do is be thankful that
some souls still know what it's like to forgive
and leave Judgment Day to our Maker's discretion
...though I have a hell of an advantage
having found one who sucks the poison
from snakebites on this leper's limbs.
How's that for a douche-bag?
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