perfectly tired

his muscles are tight,
he stretches back his chair,
exhales his plight,
but the silence blares.

i can see it
i can see it now,
the crease between his eyes
and sweat on his brow.

a deep breathing,
a heavy sigh,
all the while pleasing,
all but the inside.

i can hear it
i can hear it now,
a rambling of reasoning
branching like a bough.

with a small frown
and close of his eyes,
he redirects his focus
and unbuttons his cries.

i can taste it
i can taste it now,
the salt in his wounds
and all the pain he's allowed.

lying back, he rests,
worriment abundant,
but he tries his best,
to cease concerns rampant.

i can feel it
i can feel it now,
his sincerity behind,
promises bestowed.

i hope his mind will ease
and he'll find his repose,
i'd take pieces of his pain with me,
if only the opportunity arose.

but,
as it is,
there isn't time.
a door
locked shut,
and fences to climb.

i can smell it
i can smell it
now
sweet soft eminence of skin
and all the luxuries
avowed.