Saturday, January 24, 2009

Where The Jeans Weren't

we opened a door a piece inside the same moment

crushing dry wall
knobs meet in the center
brass bends under flagrance
flown to the rafters
fuck it / the dust sleeps

we wore headphones blaring opposite beats
timbre not the opposition
wolves lapping the backs of our teeth

mesh prints scatter the bottoms of our feet
horizontal
our thesi pass and we are the same
contrast
outside thunk
the tones daft

the back of my knees quiver
I feel the muscles tighten in my ass


the morning after we will invent the revolving door

I need you to break my heart.

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