Weblog entry:
- All the wrong reasons
-
she
rings the left side with the cool flat of her hand, singing a rap-tap staccato to the cigarette she grinds
out in the sink. there are points
for her, points
in which the sonic plush of her youth
drowns thei think i like-like you
on her lips — a greedy, indigo tongue that
oh-so-tastes the words, drowning them somewhere in the line of her sunburnt neck.behind her, the nylon trace of the curtain
flicks her hair, framing silver-quick words and my silent eyes.
they cut through the cobalt air.
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