The end is nigh, I told them.
It's belted up in that suede jacket of yours,
smoking in the half-light of attic bookshelves.
This night is unclean, I said unto her,
leathered and whimpered, wined and placated.
Have you seen this girl? Hair shines pale under a woollen hat,
answers to "End",
looks good in lipstick and stockings and sweet nothings.
Decant that red charm of yours, madam ghost, I'll pour.
Aug 7, 2019
Aug 7, 2019 at 3:46 PM UTC
The end is nigh, I told them.
It's belted up in that suede jacket of yours,
smoking in the half-light of attic bookshelves.
This night is unclean, I said unto her,
leathered and whimpered, wined and placated.
Have you seen this girl? Hair shines pale under a woollen hat,
answers to "End",
looks good in lipstick and stockings and sweet nothings.
Decant that red charm of yours, madam ghost, I'll pour.