She has muddy toes
With smoke on her breath
Her lips curl back to show
Teeth in all their mess

Her smile, it seems
To hold a feast of dreams.
And open, it beams
But you don't ever see
Her crooked piano teeth.
He plays them with his tongue,
Like fingers on the keys.

The sun it sets so swift
Like the times you swore you missed;
With letters to them all along your wrist.
Clenched up, balled up fists,
There was nothing left
For you to kiss.