in the quiet parts of the evening
we talk and sat and laid on one pillow — pressing lips
red lipstick smeared and wrapped my smile
in the quiet parts of the evening
the rest of the world played soft tunes
while we cooed songs over hummed beats, intensity building
in the quiet parts of the evening
we talk and sat and laid, one pillow pressing lips
(writ in troilee a french poetry style)
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my 10 year old daughter loves to describe my look.
there is this look i have when all talks are finished. this look i have when i am done yelling or screaming. she note: when you are yelling i know i am not in that much trouble, it’s when you get to talking too normal like [...]
like sugar cubes or flavore ice
i lick my lips to think how nice you feel
on boring days i suck my thumb
like your tongue to drive myself insane
do you believe me?
do you believe i dream of you…?
spend all my nights, sometimes my days
touching parts of me cuz you’re not here
like a fiend i stress my
i. think. [...]
