A Morning Upon All Our Deeds Poem by Jessica Warrior

To most of my nights
Morning's a nightmare

To most of our nights
Morning's an ending
To love
Let's drink this glass of scotch
We're close to dawn
Dawn's not any abbey, baby
He undresses any uncovered fellowship
When you're not warmed up
By the shots you drank off me

Morning has the blame of proof for us to take
When you leave me un-warmed

And I sleep beneath the stars
When you're webbed up in the very memory
Good morning's not a nice joke to wake me up with

Oh he reminds me, He reminds me
He reminds me of something
That I cannot tolerate
Oh he reminds me, He reminds me of Something
I'm so fooled around to remember
When I'm in need to plead for mercy
I make love with him
And he adores all the beauty in between
Just when the town goes to believe
That Oh she's not a girl of real scenes
She needs a dream to sleep
She needs pain to weep
A proof of love to beat time when she repeats
Cause she's not calling for reality
She can take the rolls in abstract paintings
Where you don't need an identity
A knightly criticism for the passionate greed
And I want to believe
But oh it reminds me, it reminds me Something
When I want to beg not to remember anything
For either way we continue this
If I'm a concept to fill in visions of memory
How often would he remember me?
Is asked when he escapes the questions he loves to hear
Is asked when he asks and I'm speechless
Is asked when one forgets what we did
When nightmares conquer him
God bless peace
And a morning upon our deeds