last time we made love.
stagnant heat bitter night,
the smell of petrol from the highway,
the old wind out on the balcony,
our open windows,
our thin white curtains,
our industrial city,
our smogged stars.
and then –
our fast breathing and oh gosh,
when you slipped your skull against my mouth
i swear i could taste the scene:
some romantic technicolour western
we’d watch in our friend’s garage
on their old TV.
(years gone past)
your hand against my skeletal
cheek; our wandering minds;
our palm tree resorts,
our electric hollywood dream;
the setted sun
the golden beaches
the tangerine taste in my mouth
from your love,
the smell of our skin.
two.
alone.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 11:09 PM UTC
last time we made love.
stagnant heat bitter night,
the smell of petrol from the highway,
the old wind out on the balcony,
our open windows,
our thin white curtains,
our industrial city,
our smogged stars.
and then –
our fast breathing and oh gosh,
when you slipped your skull against my mouth
i swear i could taste the scene:
some romantic technicolour western
we’d watch in our friend’s garage
on their old TV.
(years gone past)
your hand against my skeletal
cheek; our wandering minds;
our palm tree resorts,
our electric hollywood dream;
the setted sun
the golden beaches
the tangerine taste in my mouth
from your love,
the smell of our skin.
two.
alone.
