Regrets Are Cheaply Won

I washed my hands with bad intent
and climbed the stairs. Full knowing
the mix of lust and anxiety which fill
stomached truth and the waiting magic tale.

Pace the floor and parcel the flame
of long nights burning in lonely reverie.
Help induced by liquid amber fire
Dripped down into my heart, unmixed.

How I wish for that to make my days again
both filled and feared the partnered man.
We both know I cannot even though I can.

Stuart Andrew Marshall Tanner