I'm falling _____ the way that the sky dips into the earth . Letting the emotions pour into the landscape at times and then getting restless and surfacing. I'm falling ___ with K because of the way his bottom lip hair cradles my bottom lip. fix this because there's nothing more misleading than the promise of midnight coffee and drinking the fat off of the stagnant stout brew of harsh smoke.
Francesca would know the feeling, her portraits would speak to me in a way that I thought was impossible for a woman's body to be so potent. every shift of her translucent veins fades in and out of reality. there's a small bee crawling under chest, leaking honey through her amber arteries. he closes her eyes and a writes a poem in thin, swirled black lines around her rice paper belly button. with every new line, honey seeps out like blood. Benjamin clutches her arm like it's a crutch, grasping onto her collar bone, and digging his fingers into the nape of her neck. the lights flutter, making the world look like a scene from an old projector. a light through a fan on his back, defining the soft muscles under his skin.
I'd like to be the clothes you wear on my doorstep but I miss the sensation of you and your secrets whispered in the deaf of the night. Sweat on the bottom of your lip, every molecule crushed with the realness of life and love. This sadness drips from Valentine's open mouth, i can smell the rose's from here. each one a memory i ache to forget. when his mouth opens, flowers leak out of the cracks in his dry lips.
Francesca would know the feeling, her portraits would speak to me in a way that I thought was impossible for a woman's body to be so potent. every shift of her translucent veins fades in and out of reality. there's a small bee crawling under chest, leaking honey through her amber arteries. he closes her eyes and a writes a poem in thin, swirled black lines around her rice paper belly button. with every new line, honey seeps out like blood. Benjamin clutches her arm like it's a crutch, grasping onto her collar bone, and digging his fingers into the nape of her neck. the lights flutter, making the world look like a scene from an old projector. a light through a fan on his back, defining the soft muscles under his skin.
I'd like to be the clothes you wear on my doorstep but I miss the sensation of you and your secrets whispered in the deaf of the night. Sweat on the bottom of your lip, every molecule crushed with the realness of life and love. This sadness drips from Valentine's open mouth, i can smell the rose's from here. each one a memory i ache to forget. when his mouth opens, flowers leak out of the cracks in his dry lips.
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