your cocktails and your dreams
both dead weight.
it is a war of the worlds and your fists are swollen
beaming, totally alien
let each robotic arm find its nectar
with a slow retracting forgiving nature
patching and paying
interruptions in everyone else's life
with no apologies necessary
tragic grocery store experience
bodega on the previous corner
underneath the couple that was visible from the window at night
romantic separations in a blurry dream
No comments:
Post a Comment