soul-codeine

    makes waves the ways she walks is intended to. awe. street loves is the night weep that way she kisses celebrated stars.

    it's like when i told her "i'm not a man who can re-fork lightning in a champagne bottle." it's like i never brought enough champagne to make a bubble for us. I'm like an "it" to her static sense of lipstick smears on brick. I am the brick and I am in her as a brick, but the brick keeps getting chipped.

    pyramid eyes make out in the forcefield with her all of it's simultaneously. admiration don't nearly describe...asks totally tongue "won't you be are my medicine?"

    yes, but really her lips kill my soul-codeine, & the cough stays stuck like a forgotten diaphragm