tomorrow the temperature is supposed to rise
and you are bronzing, rusting
beneath my eyes. next to diamonds
you are dust. and believe me
all the sweat and sulfur and noise
doesn't hide you
from my 20/20 hindsight.
cheap boxed chardonnay, left
behind from last night's
smiles. down in the cellar
the real thing sits
and smiles
and gets better
and better
and older.
1 comment:
woah. this blew my mind.
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