(no subject)
your air conditioner fall’s collection is all the rage tonight. forget her breath lingering from when she saw the view from your room. ‘cause, we’ve got a real emergency; the ghost of her still in your bed. the scent of her so soft hiding in the grooves of your walls, tied up like legs under your blanket.
four in the morning was the dream and your sleep’s the cheap money-making sequel. you’re telling the sun to duck, you want to get back to four in the morning, you’re telling everyone, “one last cigarette, i’ll never sleep, she’s shifted my blankets, and it’s valium or me staying awake until we next meet in cold air.”
you’re waking up, soft piano concerto; you’re waking up hungover, its slow and fragile like a soft piano. turn those speakers up, its the only way you’ll sleep tonight, a soundtrack to your tossing, and the tight bass lines to keep your heart sewn up from bursting.
p.s. the sun’s starting to set again, get the wine.
four in the morning was the dream and your sleep’s the cheap money-making sequel. you’re telling the sun to duck, you want to get back to four in the morning, you’re telling everyone, “one last cigarette, i’ll never sleep, she’s shifted my blankets, and it’s valium or me staying awake until we next meet in cold air.”
you’re waking up, soft piano concerto; you’re waking up hungover, its slow and fragile like a soft piano. turn those speakers up, its the only way you’ll sleep tonight, a soundtrack to your tossing, and the tight bass lines to keep your heart sewn up from bursting.
p.s. the sun’s starting to set again, get the wine.