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The heat is on. It lingers in my walls and it's profound how the sweat smells just like gasoline. Your hands are on your knees, oh, what a sin. We only exist in these awkward conversations.
The T.V. is off but it settles in my floorboards like a spell and the time moves in such awful palpitations.
Now stagger on, sweet staggering beauty.
The halos we've stitched to our skulls aren't half of what they seem to be.
So lets gamble on the edge of what we'll say and raise the stakes.
Bury me beneath your charming ways and teach me how to love and trust the same things.
The radiator is working overtime and the moon won't let up, it's drawing every wide eye toward the sky. It's like a cruel riptide.