Blow out the last smoke
Your heel on the cigarette,
Crush it; take a swig
Squeezing lemons on pearly white teeth
One more for brokenness, another for the road;
Lights. Lights. Lights.
–how is a place so blindingly bright
remain so dark, so void, out of life?

We traded this life from another
And traded those from another, too.
Gypsies. Indies. Crazies. Hipsters.
All of them, labels.
We (You) are far better.

There’s something ugly in whispers.
Oh but not those from you.
Not from you.
The line between escape and reality
Is just a line, really.
Come over. Here?
Come closer. There?
Yes, please.

We are nothing but fitting hands, loose shirts,
summer evening sweats, blisters
chain smokes, vivid lights,
My eyes never leaving the sight of your smile.

Come closer. More. Nearer.
Be in my blood. Cover my skin.
Run through the inhale and exhale of my lungs.
This never ending thing going?
God****, it’s enough.