cast off in the cigarette gaze
torn through like paraphernalia
i had previously sensed this bottle opening
in the background
when i dove in and came up for air far too soon
it'll be far more whiskey sundays,
far more regurgitated fridays
before i can mitigate my cloudy days
my under the weather
my secret pouches
and some new-fangled banana sundaes
No comments:
Post a Comment