i wanted to write
you a story about
your hands, your ivory wrists
your fingers around the neck of a bottle
and you in the pale light of the morning
with laughter spilling
over your lips
(beer spilling
over your fingers)
it was never enough
here’s a metaphor:
you draw the maps and i follow them
scene 1
act 1
search for me
between the lines and
all the empty spaces
you are alone on the stage
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 2:49 AM UTC
i wanted to write
you a story about
your hands, your ivory wrists
your fingers around the neck of a bottle
and you in the pale light of the morning
with laughter spilling
over your lips
(beer spilling
over your fingers)
it was never enough
here’s a metaphor:
you draw the maps and i follow them
scene 1
act 1
search for me
between the lines and
all the empty spaces
you are alone on the stage
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