Together we'll compose a static lullaby
in the diminished 5th somewhere
between Wagner and Massive Attack.
The skyline surrounding us will come crashing down
as I reach for your hand.
I'll examine your eyes as they
echo the shadows and glow of
a city set ablaze.
We'll share a cigarette and a kiss
and I'll always remember the taste
of gasoline and destruction on your lips.
I'll be your Mr. Grey and you can be
my Lee Holloway.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment