You taste
of vanilla vodka
and promise
the bite of alcohol
first, then followed
by the salty ache
of your potential
bringing always
more thirst
and then quenching me,
a racket you
have cornered.

You taste of ash
and optimism,
the conflicting
temporal elements
of our confusion
uniting,
cigarettes smoked
in despair
and optimism
forged with the
last exhale,
becase we are
trying to be brave
enough to love
each other
completely.

10/22/2004

Author's Note: i have no idea if this makes sense at all...but here we go...is this a dumb idea? I'll prolly do it anyway...are you getting a picture now?

Posted on 10/22/2004
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