My teeth chatter against the thoughts of sharing the same room. With you. Here we are old and fat. Listening to Bob Marley and all the love that we are feeling. I still want to know how you move. Can you gently come down like a Boeing 747? Upon my head, keep it simple and non logistic. Sometimes I feel like my teeth are falling out.
You are falling out. I watch you like a TV. Pulling my camera up to my face… your fuck wad decisions, choices in music are retarded and yet beautiful. Your arms unfolding to me like something I have never scene
Your kiss, something soft against my esophagus, an ear that was torn off of all the things that I thought was the beginning. Your a begin, my life sort of. Fantastic and charismatic full of life like a John Fante novel. .
North of no south.