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drinks outside at 1 pm

Open your brain my love,

have just one more to sip,

I like how you close your

eyes & tremble those lips

 

She murmured: mind yourself,

what matters always rots,

what they insist I need

can never hit the spot

 

Leaning against cold stone,

and licking backs of glass,

I’m hungry for love as

she splinters my fleshy mass

 

These things that they’re selling,

on big billboards, in glances,

only ever half as full,

as these drunken romances

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Written by
la-jongleuse
American
Published
May 2, 2014
Lines·Words
16·78
Permission

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