With the taste of stale smoke,
I approached her.
She spoke.
and joked of our drug habbits.
Someone’s fingers licked piano keys; soflty
Slowly
Sadly.
The warmth behind my eyes was misplaced but familiar.
I heard my voice for the first time as I spoke,
Picking my way through our words.
A hand grazed my face as she looked at me and whispered words with her eyes.
My pockets were lined with only the residue of inspiration
Strung out,
phased out,
and cashed out.
I’ve always kept my windows open too wide.
besides,
These words don’t get read anymore.
