Doldrums

the ghost of my ambition fades

as I lean against a worn wicker chair,

feasting on mellow summer sky

holding nothing

but an empty glass

while the moonlight

casts porcelain shadows

on my loves face.

we gaze across the empty grid

with rusty eyes, and tired lips.

the city sways with all things sad,

you and me,

and ennui.

it’s quite a bore,

the nothingness

abundance brings.

my lovers voice drifts up to me:

“would you like another glass?”