zzolo

Smeared Sunsets

15 Jul 2003

His hands wont stop shaking, making
his hands hard not to hinge your eyes
to. Your lips hover near his and hiccups
smear the sacrifice of shared sunsets
across your face. Words are not needing,
not satisfying, pleading whispers of fingertips
to kneecap.

  Transit
Next time we will not aim so high.