Playing Possum for a Peek

I'm made up of instincts,

none of which are too keen.

But i get by with these high cheek bones,

little faith in people,

or a higher being.

I'm a man with desires

and if I told you any different, I'd be a liar.

As hard as I've tried I've found

I can't deny myself those things that I want.

As last night turns into this morning,

buried in your blankets, left for dead,

my heart beating in my head.

I lie still, pretending i'm asleep.

And I watch you put your clothes on for me,

a local pharmacist and his wife,

and I'm convinced after your performance

that this world is too big for us,

and our stupid instincts,

and our stupid desires.