spoken french digging
for a sugar high.
Emotional intelligence
of the post rave. dj
baby (where are) yu now?
compli-mints on the
bus, followed by a
burnt tongue sip of you
are so pretty, strong
brewed dollar coffee.
waiting for mel
gibson outside
the worlds market.
I syphoned my heart
through my hands and
sent it away on
route to Saint-Laurent
pvc bondage wear
romancing the pavements
along with bike blunt spoke
culture. Too fucking
cold to strike may,
your goth, your goth.
a coat mistake,
weather complaints.
billy idols breakfast
club hit on the radio.
locking into this
emotional unsure,
I could be sure this
rock was
mocking me. wiry
down to bone, bone
to under skin tribal
tattoo.
