Wednesday, October 7, 2009

add ick.

And so the addiction begins

the addiction I find among your very mouth

the cancer you've poured into me, 

it kills anything I once was

and it thrills me to know

that in this lifetime

you've let me lay in your open arms.

Run, because we're the last people that make sense.

Close my eyes, because I want you to still be the last thing I see.

You are the intensity of the sun,

Burning small images.

dots and grains

the same ones that spell out your name

in the light fixtures

they copy the sun.


No comments:

Post a Comment