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The Weekend Smile.
Writhing around in another’s bed,
while your thoughts swirl around in your best friend’s head.
Thoughts that never really were your own,
thoughts that you think while your dance partner moans.
What an inappropriate time to think these thoughts,
not like last night;
head on the concrete,
mind grasping clouds,
wisps that escape and evade and arouse…
And blindside you the next day when you shouldn’t be thinking,
about anything but drinking,
the clouds away.
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orange-blossom-special liked this
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andthenliftupyourskirt posted this
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I'm a psycho. Wo-ah.
I like facial hair, and songs, and writing, and pictures, and expressing my ever -growing angst through interpretive dance.
