Flares will catch you. Not when you see them coming. Moving cool. Not while she occupies your precious time in mind. Dress rehearse the face you will wear when you are recognised by the heart yours mines for.
Flares will learn you well. Before you turn off the lights that bend at corners. Prosperous cheaters of nature’s law of one, hand out your fate full of the spiced choices you picked off like snipered scabs. Your lowers knew of the powers desire thrusts into language. You can’t speak it. Only of it.
The night awakes with a sack full of stars to wage war with the inventors of sleep, on code, his heart attacks the memories that got lost in his twenties. The left behind that led the blind are now in charge of the past.
Past time, bed for headless heroes who swore, curse the back they broke down on, a table turns, watch me channel all the life of you into now.
Watch them die before they say you were here. I know they want to say goodbye to all they ever thought they knew. You lose again. All they ever dreamed of you was ashes wrapped in grated whispers. Add a little reverb to the scream that travels the celestial highway alongside you. She echoes like the ghosts of Tinder that trail off to moons in studio lots.
It hits different than the shame. A guilt trip to Honolulu by way of Mercury, makes the simp feel beta than never.
Venus knows her clock better than she knows her heart….
Time out of mind, sign out of love, ducked a good one. The bullet didn’t miss. The heart doesn’t belong here.
Paved in stone. Engraved. Embalmed. Footsteps trespass. Distress wont get it tonight. Blame the vain in you and your two headed horror of an attitude, lives beside lonely in the multiverse with mistress mirror tacked on.
Tacky tactics with tactile execution, she blew me a kiss before I watched her die inside her laughter. A barbed wire mystery dressed to tease, concealed her pain with red lipstick, cuckold the prick of needles let loose on the needy old cock that crowed when she played her finest trick (you fell for it too).
Two whores in a harlot system governed by well dressed fear barely making it past the Pavilion cafe on stilts, throw curve balls when gun play is headed their way. And only one sees it.Swinging hard on her wave length he reaches out a hand to gently persuade tears out of her eyes. And she wonders who’s zooming who.
Trespassing footsteps embalmed with the ointment of sorrows, loaned for a lifetime or a lunch hour, unforgiven by the debtor of dubious deeds who engraves tombstones of the soon to be forgotten and your name, not your handle on the matter at hand when light bends the truth. And love might yet find it.