I am gun powder in an hour glass, waiting.
I am broken glass in the candy bowl, waiting.
I am razor wire in the wild flowers, waiting.
I am fire.
I am water.
I am passion.
I am frigidity.
I am action and indolence.
I am love and indifference.
I am hate and hope.
Press your kiss into the dead fish lips of another.
I dare you.
(this is my rip on Bukowski's "quiet, clean girls in gingham dresses..." a piece of work I loved so much I needed to possess it in some vague way) (this is not an advertisement for a good man in an ol
blow me out and extinguish the moon as calloused fingers would smother a wick pull me into you in the frost of dawn and I will hide beneath you where the moon cannot find me blow me out like a candle,