4am, and there's no one out looking
but you nor your tatt cares about that
with a bow to perfect such messy hair
a white cardigan to cover the colours on your back
a pierced hollow ear, in today's trend
no one could understand the slap of your hand
not that the guys around are unkind
but its never the time when shit hits the fan
polka-dotted chucks and wrigley's gum
torn, black, short jeans so swift and lean
glossy and dark nail polish
suede black jacket beneath a row uncleaned
she awaits off a fluorescent corner
with red lipstick shaded of the light it emits
she smiled as she passed among the lines
and I kept face as I reminisced tasting the salt off those lips.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment