• By Ryan Oliveira

Cold Comfort

A drink in my hand is

Cold Comfort

Compared to your ghost.

I think I see you.

Wolf Eyes.

Paralyzing me in a flash.

You flick my nose.

Cold Water,

A cologne like ocean.

I follow your scent like a

Wolf in Heat

Breathing to lick you.

Every drop of you across from me:

Cold Sweat

Tripping fantastic on my tongue.

Take me with you,

Wolf Man.

Hold me under strobes.

Wed me in your drunken maw, a

Cold Lover

Under cover of thump and drang.

But when the bass clears, I’m a

Wolf Alone,

Across a counter of no one.

My drink is no more. A

Cold Comfort

Having fucked a ghost.

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Ryan Oliveira

Ideas.  I'm full of them.

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