give me halloween for christmas
you need someone to drag you along
or maybe it's just an appropriate excuse to be touched
not like from behind a window
more like her one perfect finger
tracing the lines in your face
maybe five years between open heart surgeries
is just the natural progression
from trying to cram one more mannequin into the warehouse
forgetting that this was the night
you were supposed to court the arson
leave the plastic twisting slowly
into something too thin to be smoked
what about the dirt between your fingers?
pavement makes for a longer stride
and the city blocks wrap themselves around you
so you sit head down at the window
trying to prop up the old toys
with just the right collection of phrases
ignoring your vice 'til afternoon,
when giving in feels like victory
you think of the one person who really had you
and of people sliding through your basement
reading the letters that you still can't throw away