Charles Bukowski

Out Of The Arm Of One Love

Out of the arm of one love and into the arms of another, I have been saved from dying on the cross by a lady who smokes pot, writes songs and stories and is much kinder than the last, much, much kinder, and the sex is just as good or better. It isn't pleasant to be put on the cross and left there, it is much more pleasant to forget a love which didn't work as all love finally doesn't work... It is much more pleasant to make love along the shore in Del Mar in room 42, and afterwards sitting up in bed, drinking good wine, talking and touching, smoking, listening to the waves... I have died too many times believing and waiting, waiting in a room, staring at a cracked ceiling, waiting for the phone, a letter, a knock, a sound... going wild inside while she danced with strangers in nightclubs... Out of the arms of one love and into the arms of another, it's not pleasant to die on the cross, it is much more pleasant to hear your name whispered in the dark.

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