16 April 2009

Chatterunga

i was melting into the floor that morning when you couldn't be a man
rising up to beautiful roses, Spanish guitar strings, and foreign candies
Georgia peach covering my cheeks caked with dirt and your finger prints
snake skin boots withering at the weight of my heels that have been resting deeply
in the comfortable struggle of you & me & our egos

3 comments:

Charlotte said...

Shoot me a text, girlie! I think for some reason my Twitter DMs aren't going through to you.

773.968.5421

Devin said...
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Devin said...
This comment has been removed by the author.