she's like heroin

it's late, and i'd love to whisper secrets into your skin, between your angel wings, just above. your fingers run through my mind like clovers falling across warm clean planets without hope. they don't need it.

i want to be, "much then more", playing softly random little songs you've never known the way you'll know them with me, in shaded rooms, with wanton eyes and telling you the story of my birth and tripping forth from the kitchen with glasses of future in hand and grappling with that funny little thing called fate.

i was thinking about how your voice would sound with your crinkled nose, squinted eyes half asleep, you're awake at four am and it'll always be cold out when we're together, i know the surfing lines of tanned bodies will fall away and disapear and you'll be, you'll be arms up, breasts heaving, thinking only of the warmth of a fireplace, the words left out (we don't have to say it all at once, you know) or even mean it always and forever, but maybe we will, maybe we will.

maybe it won't just be hands on your hips, torn clothing, maybe squeezing your breasts too tight, tugging at your nipples, half drooling on your back. maybe it won't just be thighs at my ears and hair being ripped out or slipping my fingers into you because i know it'll feel like home and safe your body is a heroin high, and maybe that'll be all it is.

maybe, it'll be walks, too long. sunsets watched, bored with, interested in random spurts.

maybe it'll be laughs at different jokes and i wont get what your laughing at and you'll not even have heard what made me smile.

maybe it'll be spills on carpet stains that can't be cleaned, sometimes stupid excuses to yell, sometimes, yelling to make up, sometimes making up to sleep better.

maybe it'll be talks about film and records not too agreeable.

maybe it'll be velvet underground and late nights when you should be resting up for work.

maybe it'll be nothing at all.

but now i'm thinking it can be whatever it turns to and i'll know, it could've been, we could've, we...



2003-12-31 | 1:16 p.m.
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