The age of, "Are you staying for breakfast," wears off, as do the drugs. Surely we've danced more than we've walked by now. I remember burning in my calves, how I itched for your fat fingers to stick in my mouth--wiggle their way out of my bite like disintegrated cigarettes. The valley comes alive with tequila, but it's still the valley. We laugh at the bad shit, even when it keeps us awake.
You told me you loved me a thousand times; I asked for proof that you didn't have. You say you have it now, eyelids falling like bombs on a city--the green of you blazes through my bedroom. Life before it's dark again, beneath those eyes. Dark again for me, beneath those eyes.
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