She sat and wished for anything more than the tired dreams he kept repeating (slow and down the edge of the cracking glass of guinness he still, earnestly, believed gave him some strength to see beyond the seething wealth of shit grown grins he'd dragged her into when she was too young to know that there was more to fucking than love and an arm to call her own into the future where they would sit somewhere all fat and tanned by the empire he'd somehow made out of the dust he carried this far, didn't he?).
She sucked back her sigh. sipped. let her eyes roll him over in wonder and then land onto the jukebox.
Tired flashes. johnny cash. some boston for the pool-grown white caps prancing around the pocket.
More than a feeling.
Fucking, indeed.
Nowhere Is Always Somewhere.mp3
8.16.2007
8.15.2007
Always this way
Leave the boy his timely passions, we've promises to keep. fates to seal and hopes to mete before this night's forgiveness bleeds.
Let him.
Leave.
His ode will come on stranger wings.
Concrete Bed.mp3
Let him.
Leave.
His ode will come on stranger wings.
Concrete Bed.mp3
8.14.2007
We fall out
She whispered into him a dream he'd been replaying the last fifteen years of his increasingly brief and unremarkable life.
All she could do, if only...
And when she didn't walk away he couldn't breathe. when she kept her hend on the nape of his gray neck and left her fingers dug in. when she let him feel the curve of her breast against his arm.
When she told him when. and where. and how.
And shuddered.
So he'd believe it.
So he did.
Mr. Superlove.mp3
All she could do, if only...
And when she didn't walk away he couldn't breathe. when she kept her hend on the nape of his gray neck and left her fingers dug in. when she let him feel the curve of her breast against his arm.
When she told him when. and where. and how.
And shuddered.
So he'd believe it.
So he did.
Mr. Superlove.mp3
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