Arabian Afternoons

It's too early for
  This shit.
    Muffled bottles cracking
Show the Afternoon
    For what it's worth;
or
    What it could be.
Bottle caps protruding
  From the eyelids of
    The forgotten;
Of the wasted, lost
       And rich:
Tell the story of
    This night
      And this night
      In particular.
It's only the Afternoon, but
    What the night
      Has in store;
      What the night
      Waits for-
Is just what it
    Could be.
What with the
      "you've said this
        Before"
And the fizz on the
    Tops of what follows:
I never wanted more
    Than another's voice.
Another's look on
    How this glass empties.
And now I realize this
    Is well within my grasp.
You are with in my grasp.
And what happens between us,
    Is meant for the Gods-
What happens between us,
    Is viewed only by
      Fallen angels, who
Know what it's like
    To be lost.
      Who know not love,
      But the pain of
Children who never knew
    Their fathers,
Of the ghost of reason
    Popping in your head
        As the needle goes in,
And of lovers, who never
    Quite learned to love
      Eachother.

Then again,
    The night's still young.
        The drought not yet
        Drunk and my loves
    Not yet loved.