the hotcha girls

there was a sunlight full of seratonin overdoses and green faces third degree burns from her tragic beauty and i ate tea leaves to bring me down [thinking about the sacred heart]
mass on holidays
poetic benedictions and gazes that still move me

eyebrows dark and arched sparkling teeth her smiles see right through me but i have little to no intention of staying home giving up going out late coming home bags under eyes-jesus i never go out these days- just sit there stare numb at sopranos, oz knowing six months and another round where do we go from here?

2003-02-01 | 2:43 p.m.
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