it's too boring to be simply up to no good
vanilla skin and ashen lips, shaking hands
sly, slender nostrils that started drip wine again
convinced she's not a person without him

when she laughs that cool laugh
these straight lines that keep her
coiled and uncoiling again
she smells like absolut and lust, cheap perfume

prophet tongue with
stabbing perceptions
i gave him my name
while in bed.

soft white curtains
though still chamber thick
cold steel hands
and the room sliced into pieces
by morning light
but haunted by night sounds
crept into open wounds of the heart

chills.

his hand
resting on my thigh while he snores
summer bruised and adventurous
though callous youth
with his unbandaged scabbed knee
skating last night.

moment forgotten in the carride
but a stone monument staring
at me on the kitchen counter.

letting loose old chains
you and your wry laughter
defeated by the day old machines
of life and their constant clogging

time's hands tear into spring
nail first, peeling off the light constricting canopy
twisting barbwire off delicate skin
strangling you on a couch from hell

wake up to the smell of bourbon
and dead roses - so pretty
your lashes creating the shadows
on your gaunt cheekbones, and your name is Soul

[doesn't every ugly thing
look good in cursive?]*

tattoo the image as a sleeve
like i'm too young to care
if you're taking care of yourself
vinylrecordshatteringvulnerableOHSO
it's not even summer yet
and i already know i ain't over a **** thing
love like your slender, lanky long body

large brown eyes and the smell of
smoke in your hair
hazel honey energy, making out on the balcony
promise land really is just a graveyard
of discarded lights like you and i
in the middle of a desert
and i can't think straight, not since your lips
first captured mine