Damian Rucci

You Never Realize You’re Dancing Alone Until the Music Stops 

and you’ve been living in some kind of mirage
playing dominoes with the devil 
you owe the sonofabitch about three fifty
but you both know neither of you are 
good at paying debts, the machinery of night
is the only music you need, the demons are on
now dropping from your shoulder to circle 
the room taking bets and hollering 
you don’t even think to leave the table 
all your angels must be on vacation or worse
have left your side to stay up all night 
with better company, who’re you to judge?
You’re on, you’re here now, the fire in your belly 
is out but you have lightning in your veins
sinister breeze on your scalp and a cock that could 
cut diamonds, but your girl is tired of your shit
too, asleep in the next room, your mama 
always told you no good man is awake at 3 am,
so what does that make you? Flipping tiles 
chain smoking cigarettes and haunting the house
even ghosts have an ambition to scare, you’re
a shell and the devil will leave you too as the sunbeams
wake the goodhearted from their sleeps
you’ll be walking to that same gas station
to get the same pack of smokes watching the same mothers
send the same kids to school and you will walk back
alone to sleep while the world is awake again

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