Monday, December 28, 2015

Bukowski no. 25

She walks in forests with a knife on her hip
and lays a son to bed at night.
I fall asleep on the floor of my apartment
and spit out bloodied rotten shards of my teeth into the sink.

Once we were laying together and I looked at her
and brushed her hair away from her eyes and told her
that she would have everything she ever wanted.
She looked at me and told me that I would, too.

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