Design In Your Froth

their voice was as smooth as an exhale on a desired cigarette, it spilled out in a straight line, a dart searching for it's bulls eye, and it doused your entire senses with this intoxicated cleanse that you could swear you were a little high. their voice followed you around long after the words had evaporated from your surroundings, they'd follow you home and even the simplest of sentences suddenly seemed sexy. the first sip of a cappuccino, a voice with a design in it's froth, in a perfect cup and saucer. the kind where the heat warms your hands and that sip warms your entire being. a voice that could arouse you and put you to sleep, could calm you and get you excited, a voice with a ribbon of confidence, care and certainty. a voice that reasons with reason and pushes you and encourages you to do something. a voice you go to sleep sometimes thinking about, and you don't know why, and you aren't sure but you try to still hear it.

We Create Condensation

We've created condensation.

I trace our heavy breathing in the windows of the back seat of your brother's mustang.
We've crumpled ourselves into a spit ball, all limbs and soggy skin.
Our hair mashes into one another, forming constellations on our foreheads.
We aren't that young and not that in love, but we find solace here within each other.
You're much wiser than I remember.
You wear combat like a pair of gloves, I can feel your battles in your hands.

Your eyes beg me to spill about my troubles, but you mouth doesn't dare speak.

You lap at my skin like a thirsty kitten, I can't help but feel at home.

You've got to get back..

You have to get back…

I have to go…

We've created condensation. 

After Party Clouds

severe after party clouds leave melted steeze across a celebratory sky and in the mesh of life there is a diluted pride that heaves with a vomitty smell of insecurity that has been pooling under dancing shoes for hours of drinking and smoking and laughing at things that aren't even that funny. ashtrays hiding the ashes of love and lust and sit in little mountains that demand you step slowly around them so they don't budge and don't shift and stay there tall, mocking you from the coffee table. empty bottles chime home time with a burpy breeze of filth that hangs in the air like a stink bomb just went off. music whispering too loudly all of your last nights activities and sleepy eyes filled with powdered poisons flicker up and down from their slumped positions on the pee coloured carpet as if taking tiny snapshots of your humiliation.

The Shade of Moonlight

Ultraviolet love orbs catapult and shatter glitter the shade of moonlight all over your day. Do something absolutely lovely and wear your sunnies like the cigarette smoke is too bright and the weather understands you best. Write it all down. Everything. Keep the fragments. Trace your name in the stardust and allow the ocean to pool within your eyes and live along your coastline with the etching mountains reflecting the truths that are housed within your collarbones.