Sad Labels:
apathy
Tonight we play a different game. The pebble in her shoe persisting. The whores in her pocket conceding to the notion. That broken is a form of evolution.
She lies and tells him that it feels good. Two Firemen on ladders. Convincing the inferno to sleep. Maps full of pinholes. Promising me I'll get there eventually.
Working the numbers in a deep massage. Fussing wit the buttons. She struggled with her time machine until everything was dead again. Wondering if life was enough.
The piquant anomalies of eager skin. Turn this fallow soil into a garden again.
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