Rime Sparse in Inverno

Outside – warm night, the wind is throwing curses. When you’re really feeling low, you only want someone to nurse it away for you. Liquor store, you are the bane of my existence – filled with bottled premonitions of a hundred indecisions. My prescriptions are expensive – otherwise, I’m apprehensive. When it’s windy like this balconies were made to harbor kisses, to envision awkward wishes, follow footsteps over curtains and a pile of last week’s shirts and when it’s windy and you’re hurting it blows off of you like heat. I shiver to make more pain warm its way back into me but now it’s colder – not a warm night – now there’s no heat in sight. My cigarette has ended, it would be my sheer delight to go inside.


~ by perfectionatrix on December 15, 2011.

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