February 2012
13 posts
“In the middle of the night, when we get up
after making love, we look at each...”
– Sharon Olds - True Love (via lightandplanetary)
Too much food not enough cigarettes
1 tag
1 tag
the morning after
the clock read
6:04 a.m,
but it wasn’t,
it wasn’t.
she slept like
a bad burden,
he slept like
the tasteless
first kiss
after a
cigarette—
I was craving,
craving.
she to my right,
he to my left,
I slipped a
hand down
down
down,
and teased him.
he stirred,
I knew that
slight smirk,
like the slight
promise of day light
at 6:04 a.m.
she to my right,...
1 tag
McDonalds car park
I lay in his car,
cramped like a
child in his mother’s
arms.
staring out of the window,
as he played with
the headlights—
‘look’, he said
and the bright
yellow glow drew
nearer.
closer to us,
and our embrace.
closer to us,
and our 1 a.m chats.
closer to us,
and the many days
we may
or won’t have
and the black
followed, came closer
behind...
1 tag
Olives
wash away on frayed
red bed sheets,
wash away on his
back seat,
wash away on all
the cigarettes,
on all the booze,
on all the olives
a man can be.
temper like a mad man,
obsessed like a mad man,
lost like a mad man,
straight outta the
big house.
blue darks,
grey lights,
rolling on stray
winds till some
stray arms
catch.
see what he has to say,
if he will say,
what you ...
3 tags
1 tag
February the sixth.
February the sixth,
I have just read
a short, final piece
by Bukowski.
I am counting,
how many times he makes sense,
I am counting,
how many times I can relate,
and I am counting
how many cigarettes I have left.
it is February the sixth,
and it is open season again.
my dove of hearts,
has flew away, a sort of
farewell to
Gavin,
the man who
I will
always
adore.
the White,...
