Remember the night we drank dreams in Styrofoam coffee-cups?
Stained with the froth of an acoustic guitar were your lychee lips, that night I wore you like a blanket -
the magic stretches
like a rubber band only into the early
morning, and no more -
It had snapped when we smiled at each other sleepily on the other side; ignoring the advice
that you should never use the same pillow twice.
Stained with the froth of an acoustic guitar were your lychee lips, that night I wore you like a blanket -
the magic stretches
like a rubber band only into the early
morning, and no more -
It had snapped when we smiled at each other sleepily on the other side; ignoring the advice
that you should never use the same pillow twice.
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