My Leg’s Asleep

Dangling from lamp posts
Bitter taste of your ghost
Blue light in a cold room
We might be going home soon
And the echoes of still life
The absence of a wife
No caffeine or chlorine
Just the smell of morphine
In here we can fly
But the clouds are too high
Because we are bound
By our love of the ground
And we taste something sweet
When the ground leaves our feet
But the remnants of you
Are not nearly as true
So I grab at the dust
Of something more than lust
But the aftertaste
Surely goes to waste
And the feeling lingers
As it slips through my fingers
But we can be sure
It’s not something more
No caffeine or chlorine
Just the smell of morphine
And that tingling buzz whispers
“Asleep, not numb”