I'm tripping on her hemlines - big sister with all the luck
and all the love - she's golden fixation, transportation,
relax and slit your own wrists this time. Bite the memories
back when they sting. Golden with hands that feel
rather then touch - everything - she says love is a pleasure. A
dream that she sleeps in on; vanilla latte's - taste it so deep
that it seeps into you. She sleeps the hours away with lovers
made of clay dust and manipulation (bullet-proof heartbreaks) -
they all come straight from the earth - like Pagan gypsies.
Like unfit bullshit. Moans slip through the walls like electricity
in a lightning storm. a, they all say, y.