Sunday, August 15, 2010

fumbling strings. tangled sheets.
red lips, dirty nails from clenching the mud in fists, untamed eyebrows, wild hair, lousy limbs, and dark shadow spread across eyes. morning eyes. foolish tired eyes from staring at the night sky for too long.
empty perfume bottles. but the smell wafts through my nose and blood just the same.
even though nothing will spray.


making coffee.

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