torn labels: no sex and vanilla candles

no sex and vanilla candles

c’mon rain
and put out th fire

gasoline wrists
and Christmas fists

been awhile since I’ve been kicked around like that, she says

motel
and smile
leave it alone c’mon

the opening in her skin
she thinks it’s th moon
chelsea me and certainly
a slow cut as night

disappears delicious
and hell is an apple of a storm

traffic
mad morning
leaving desire
is like a staircase

th shower is laughing
and she is crying

dream again
dream again

         please how can i know  how can night guess this

was a friend           ever a friend
was a boy              ever a boy

funny everybody all full
and no one else cares

# posted by hardyf : 21:47

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