Default Lover

You may call this self indulgent
but this is just me waking up.
You may call me embarrassed
or call me a mess;
But one day real soon,
you will have to be honest
and call me your best.

I cannot explain why the other boys drop out
just when I am dealt a losing hand
while all my chips are down.

I am your default lover, baby.
I cannot help but taste like vanilla sin.
I am your default lover, baby.
My sweetness is white wash over the last tenant’s red.

I will be burying our secrets
in the back of my dresser drawer;
Underneath a negligee
and on top of the purple heart
my grandfather earned,
serving in the great war.

I am your default lover, baby—
or your two percent if you like.
I have got more substance than skim milk,
but I still lack the Vitamin D you need to feel alive.

I am so sorry that you find me dull,
but you have worn me like your favorite pair of jeans.
I am full of holes with stains and ghosts,
but I am still what you put on
to fetch the paper every day.

I am the butter on your toast
when you cannot afford eggs and cheese.
I am the lipstick that always runs,
but my color looks best on you anyway.

I am the snag of hair you yank for hours
over the course of your life.
I am the sneeze that never comes
except in darkened auditoriums.

I am the cross you wanted
when you prayed for a sign.
I am your default lover, baby.
I can be your suspect in almost every crime.

written on 11/08/2009 by: Matt Kane