Ain't NOTHING easy about Sunday morning...

Sunday, January 09, 2005

This Fucking World

They move so rhythmically that it can't be wrong.
Can it?
Can two move together so untrained and instinctively?

We all sin the same, in harmony.

We are two, tone deaf in a room, relishing our blasphemous tune.
And one of us climaxes before the other, and our eyes finally catch their focus
And you're not quite as ready for an encore as you thought you'd be.
Now she's the whore, and you don't feel like it anymore.
But maybe tomorrow, I will.

It's no wonder.
At all.


***

2 Comments:

Blogger Revolt said...

At all.
It's no wonder...

She can't gather the shattered pieces of soul
she left behind imbedded in his mind
yet he despises the very thought of her

soft skin palettes and laughter
left unfinished
burnt up in memories past

1/2 hr ago
they know
she knew
he'd never let go.

he was the inhale
that she couldn't let out
but sin is synonomous it seems
leaving lovers left losing
lost
each other's clout.

What about all the other fuckers
in this universe
who were convinced the sun rose around
their bed frame?

'They move so rhythmically it can't be wrong.
Can it?'

Baby
love
or
war
the world's deplored
the same.

8:27 PM

 
Blogger Puddleglum said...

Beautimus!
I think you're better than me!
Bedframes and whatnot...
G'head Christine!
Now I'm happy again.

11:33 AM

 

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