[LOVE is the DRUG] my mouth is wet with words i havent spoken in so long
you've become such a routine that when you're not there,
it really sinks in
my voice is a thunder
as i shoot the morning birds with my camera.
they flapped away like breaths over curse words,
baited in the suns sticky tongue. you've got such a pretty face.
not only when i drink but all the time,
thats a true compliment if only you read between the lines. sometimes when you sleep with your face against my chest,
i run my hand down the nude of your shoulders.
i search for a irregular scar or groove to indicate the heavy surgery you forgone two years ago.
the time i pried your skin & tissue back from your shoulder blades to remove the angel wings you came to me with.
i must have sewn you up with precision, because i cant feel a single flaw in the dull of night. & the sun rising is just like a myth on the tip of our tongues.
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