Wednesday, November 28, 2012


on a sleepy day by jake kilroy.

with legs as free and dangerous as a seaside cliff drive,
she could send waves of audio into men that would melt their hearts.
the lull of a trumpet would pummel their heart into pulp.
the rage of a songbird letting go would swim in their lungs.
the gospel spirit of ancient sorrow would parade through their ears,
with lanterns leading them out of the endless, unforgiving cavern.

she had lips like a graveyard,
with so many men claiming they died there,
just to sound as though they had a courage to offer the world.
when she drank her wine slowly,
it mangled every man in the room.
when she danced, it was the end of civilization.

what every man would've given to be the one to destroy her
could've filled the seven seas with the junk of sweetheart madmen.

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