Monday, August 9, 2010

Old Dirty Money

The shadow of our love is lost in your Incandescence

Overtaken by the foolhardiness of our Adolescence

When I think of you I think of Death

When I thought our love was immortal

You let lose your wrath

You suck at my heart like 16

Mosquitoes, but

There is ecstasy in scratching my wounds

And when I moan, I moan for you.

I’ve left you for the land of blue

Where the people are humble

But the boys are true

The south breeds faith like bees make honey

And there is heritage in the buildings

and old dirty money

The humidity here leaves me breathless and sticky

But your soul seeks me out, I can feel the trickle

Of a thousand fires and the mirage is so tricky

My instinct leads me away from your tendrils

And my heart fears the palpations and tickles

Of a lonely field left unattended, the barren maiden

Deprived of loves juices

She seeks to find another

but finds only excuses

So I long for a dream

Lost in a breeze

And the memory of you

Squeezes my pulp like a tomato.

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