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1.22.2004 nitelife i don't see you through the ghosts we've shaken from the walls in this room. or, rather, we wake them when you take my finger and trace the curve of my soft and ridgeless fingernail. (baby, baby, baby pink curve, says the girl with the red hair, blue shirt, i steal away to her when you're not here.) "i am always serious." "i don't believe you." it's not language we speak when we fix each other solid in the fog of ghosts, unhappy ghosts, they speak by guiding my hand across your chest. posted by Rach on Thursday, January 22, 2004 Post a Comment
nitelife i don't see you through the ghosts we've shaken from the walls in this room. or, rather, we wake them when you take my finger and trace the curve of my soft and ridgeless fingernail. (baby, baby, baby pink curve, says the girl with the red hair, blue shirt, i steal away to her when you're not here.) "i am always serious." "i don't believe you." it's not language we speak when we fix each other solid in the fog of ghosts, unhappy ghosts, they speak by guiding my hand across your chest. posted by Rach on Thursday, January 22, 2004 Post a Comment
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