Second Ticket

Reprihensible--a sort of pleasure
When leisure leans back into leather
Coushioned soft from gravity spikes
The feel of ease at the sound of key strikes
Warming hands on a relaxed spine
A lack of space (what’s yours or mine)
A pregnant pause, a talk or two
A look of longing straight and true
A golden frame, a misplaced button
A healthy dose of care for nothing
Ask about my tell me ‘bout your
Touch my hair and strike up sweet scores
From dusty cardboard, needle scratched
“A Case of You,” a joint, a match
A comforter-cum-winter coat
The toe, the knee that rocked the boat
The second time now in the dark
A foggy glass, a bright blue spark
Some crooked teeth, a metal cap
A second ticket on the dash
It’s a sign, I’m sure (perhaps)
You fall asleep so fast