your interpol life

i want your cinnamon lips on me, rose oil, don't you know that you glow even over a phone line?
doll, you bring the dead to life with your jasmine hair, a demoness in the night. i don't want any other way.
so i tell you i'm jealous of your fingers, hands, it's so damn easy to be just that and wonder what the stars would look like from your porch in our underwear at four a.m. and we'll be drinking tea and talking noonsense about music, you'll play billie, i'll play nina, we'll both be ready for anything.

there's animal in you i can see it even from here.

2003-06-26 | 10:35 a.m.
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