I can't compete with the dirty pearls
and the prom dresses from 1938
I can't compete, I can't compete
My mind is supple like that coffee ripple
on the way to my tongue
between my teeth
it's not as long of a road
as it used to be
Oh Lawd me
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Soaking up the rain and whipping spit of the waves, as he stood next to the ocean of my memory, a fire hydrant in a red windbreaker, glaring...
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"Well...that was dramatic." I didn't know what he meant until I saw the ink spilled everywhere and the moths in her hair like ...