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This margarita
Drank at a dozen a dime,
Uses island lime

All the far places
That the heart wishes to be
Come with a price tag

I stood on a boat
On an ocean oh so blue,
Missing only you

I long for a break,
End the mundane daily grind
Just for a moment

Blood, Blood

Run in the rivers
Scrub beneath the finger nails
Blink - it's back again

The brush of absence
Without feeling or thinking
Paints death into life

We can't wash our hands
The blood is under the skin
Written in our past

The Poet Armistead