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Oct 2017
I swing my legs over yours, languid sprawl barside stoop
You light Marlboro golds your cousin brought you from North Carolina.
Or were they those ancient Belmonts
Procured from that corduroy jacket you picked up last week?
Or did you roll us two in the palm of your hand
with the kind of ease that makes me wish I was still a stoner?
We wash it down with cheap *****, or whiskey
Or was it the leftover of your mother’s brandy?
If I close my eyes I can still feel the warm in my belly
The burn on my lips, that metal flask taste on my tongue.
We stumble through cobblestoned alleyways.
Did I forget my bike?
Did you?
I want to exist somewhere in that dark before 4AM last call.
I want everything to be as easy as we believed it could be.
I want to remember how to forget like that, again.
Written by
jules  21/MTL
     Lior Gavra and Elliana Branchesi
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