Straying to other lovers feels like rolling gleefully down a hillside
Laughter
***** knees
And then silence

The point when you've smoked the cigarette to the filter and the taste in your mouth is no longer righteous but *****.
And as much as you'd like it to, chocolate milk won't do it justice.
And the night is not graceful but sticky.
And all is well, and all is in the well
So it seems.

Forsaken--like love lost. Something about it regards things cast away or things we hold on dearly. It is the ******--the freeze frame in the heist of a burglary. The moment when all could be lost forever.

Two lovers at the end of the world. Always two lovers. Always a countdown or the candle about to burn out. On one side someone smokes menthols. On the other Marlboro lights.  It's a shoot out. Always questions like will you die for me? Will you bleed for me, baby?