Sitting Down Indian Style

Sitting down Indian style
on the battered carpet.
Hints of last nights debauchery
evident all around me.
It doesn't matter
my mind is elsewhere.

(drifting)

Maybe in clouds
or puffs of smoke.
In the basement
that reeks of forbidden
games and neat tricks.
To be acted out
on your dad's pool table.

It's the image that
wraps itself around me
like a warm blanket in winter.
I lay stretched out.
Reminiscent of the evenings,
we spent head to head,
staring into each others
red rimmed eyes.

(puff puff...pass)

So adorable you are
with that silly grin.
That snapshot seems so worn
of you in my mind,
yet it's so clear
to the place in me
that speaks softly.