I find you on Sunset Blvd with heavy eyes,
lips cradling a cigarette.
You pick me a white carnation
from my neighbor's lawn--you thought I’d like it.
Your face lifts and falls, you shed feelings
like they don’t belong to you.
Taste the sweet of life as it runs down
your throat; the thing we’ll miss
when it’s all over, reminding us
there's an end.
I find you in our little house,
ready to run from reason and doubt.
I want to trust you, but trust is when
you stop fighting. If I put down my fists,
the world would not recognize me.
We’ve fucked in the bed less than we’ve eaten in it,
and we’ve fucked on the counter more than we’ve cooked on it.
We play house until we can’t anymore
because we are too big and this house is too small.
Photo By: Kelly Balch