you leave me swimming in my own scattering confusion
with your
tanned waterfall of words
i have been slipping on your melting red ice
for pages and pages of days held underwater
amongst berry bronze lipstick, customised jeans, midnight black bras and inky bruises.
the life that aches until my mascara smudges like wine and coffee.
now you're [almost]
smiling at me in orange t-shirts, yet
frowning at me through liquorice glass windows.
half-cooked passionfruit soufflé hardly
stirs up any raisinsugarraisin idea of beautiful taste.
the wires i have to hack through to get to some
bleachedblonde, neonpinkeyelinered, stickyraspberrylipsticked figurine is ridiculous.
popcorn sticks to tangerine lips.
hey it's nauseating to think of where i'll be in two days' time, my soul creaking.
written: Tuesday 14th September 2004, 9:55pm.
