malenky devotchka

Bella Morte
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2004-03-27 22:45:57 (UTC)

motor oil

he came at dawn,
and left at three
his eyes are just a memory
a reverie of darkness pantomiming love…
daring to grace the scent of liquor with his presence-
never spoke above a whisper
only sighed and never talked
his kisses…
laced with honey
laced with silence, sex and radio waves
ignoring me at one a.m.
to study my reflection in the
motor oil
beside the stereo, next to the sink
before disappearing down the hallro
across the states
of confusion and otherwise
to sway my mind through shadowed words
and clever thoughts
a memory of gasoline and cigarettes
to haunt my dreams…

i love you rob.

tragically yours,