Aimless to pardon
But what a del sol of a mouth you have
From here it appeared..

Well anyhow from the window downstairs
That big one you never look out
I sit and stare at the computer desk

The shape of her tits is feverishly imprinted
in the air sculptures I find myself crafting

It's sure queer to find sheets so warm at night
at least I would suppose
Unless that airhead brain of yours
thinks warm sheets and imprints of bodies
are a regular occurrence in winter

In the closet I study film and Polaroids
Really I stroke myself and watch you sleep

And at the corner of Everything Certain and Me Me blvd.
We find ourselves cursed with drone-like behavior

At least when
the long day is over
I can retire in my own bed
The one downstairs

You know when you leave your room right
and pass by mom and dads
Well it's the staircase on your left
I'm game whenever you want to hop on

12/16/2007

Posted on 12/17/2007
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