Friday, March 26, 2004

rings around fingers around his neck

charcoal asphalt
launches street smart
astronauts
into the space
you leave
after each time
you breathe

and when this cold air
meets such warm breath
left lane lovers
beckon bold, bruised brothers

the scent of our sex
is way better than new car smell
and i breathe it in deep

although toasty warm
i start to crumble...

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