(no subject)

[machina_sonata]

Soft and vitriolic
The venom’s not in the teeth
But the tongue
And the movements of your lips

With a fingertip
On each eyelid
I will set myself to sleep

With a finger
Touching your mouth
I request nothing
And ask that you do the same

I am a streetlight
You are the nights I go out

I was dawn
And you were always the horizon
Too far to reach.