Blue Streak Thing

Blue streaks I don’t know must smudge when you sleep so close to me oh there’s nothing keeping my own self from being perfectly happy – I could go on and on forever and still never sum up what it means to see a slight lift of the eyes when they first spy a thing that they like – sometimes, it’s even me and I like that the most. And it’s so bad, I know – I should be climbing corporate ladders, not smoking on the road that runs by your house but I’ve no doubt that there’s little else I want – perhaps nothing, nothing else to want but being sprawled out on your bed with drying sweat and aching arms and falling asleep while some movie victim finds the killer behind her and then screams – oh I swear all my favorite dreams are, I’m awake upon the sheets and you are curled up like a seashell God would find on His own beach.

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~ by perfectionatrix on October 15, 2012.

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