Playing The Game

Playing the Game

Drunkenly we drew the plans,
Your half cut eyes fixed on my shaking hand, 
Each alone, each had come alone
To the dark west sky, to the fighting sea.

Savagely, with hearts too loose for peace
We moved to cross a line, thinking nothing,
Each alone, each with words unfit
To hold our lives, to cradle all that hope.

But we said some things
(Now the art of growing old) 
Like how to crush wild garlic best,
Or how to take a morning’s rest,
And the promise that we’d love
Each day the other’s crooked heart.