Black Magic

be good to your soul, be bad to your liver

January 5, 2012 at 4:11am
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reblogged from theweightofemptiness

Morning

I’ve got to tell you how I love you always I think of it on grey mornings with death

in my mouth the tea is never hot enough then and the cigarette dry the maroon robe

chills me I need you and look out the window at the noiseless snow

At night on the dock the buses glow like clouds and I am lonely thinking of flutes

I miss you always when I go to the beach the sand is wet with tears that seem mine

although I never weep and hold you in my heart with a very real humor you’d be proud of

the parking lot is crowded and I stand rattling my keys the car is empty as a bicycle

what are you doing now where did you eat your lunch and were there lots of anchovies it

is difficult to think of you without me in the sentence you depress me when you are alone

Last night the stars were numerous and today snow is their calling card I’ll not be cordial

there is nothing that distracts me music is only a crossword puzzle do you know how it is

when you are the only passenger if there is a place further from me I beg you do not go

— 

(Source: theweightofemptiness)

Notes

  1. sentimental-pleasureseeker reblogged this from dream-instead
  2. dream-instead reblogged this from theweightofemptiness
  3. theweightofemptiness posted this