Young Writers Society

My virginity lies
In the wasted cotton fields
Where wild things watch
And rain clouds dip in and out
Of their deep, grey slumber.

I’ll show you the path of the ghosting trees,
Beyond the tracks of drawn dirt
And the rabbit proof fence,
And around the kissing gate
Where we fell.

Down the river, in the wake
Of a wayward, lostward youth;
with hair the colour of night,
and eyes as dry as the sunburnt earth.

Here lies my love-
Naked as the moonlight,
And I, ever entranced
By the beauty of her scars.

cars going toofast
rock you to sleep [in white noise]

(sirens - your alarm)