november his words came out like a lemming of forceful regrets and my phrases were hell bent on the destruction of themselves
*it's decemeber now you've only been gone for a month and i can move furniture around as much as i'd like, and you'd still bounce off the cushions
if the Everything of cigarette smoke and cheap cologne speak as loudly as temptation as brightly as your abdomen, stretched like the bonds of linen across rooftops
that shade these lonely streets then i will seek the promises you left behind and a late night motel *to bore me in your absence