She said,
“write me a love poem,”
so I sat down and
tapped my pen against the typewriter keys
I wrote to her, “you are a trophy sword,
taken from foul hands
placed on the mantle of my finest house,
yet
all you do is cut,
you’re the reverb on my bass,
pedal,
I don’t know guitars that well,
you are as beautiful like all the things
they put in emperor’s garden,
just as fragile
with your wandering ways,
like a roe in a stream
with drops of eternity wet on her muzzle,
I think I want to see other people”
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fromgeektochic said:
Rent is too high.
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vaccerelli posted this
