Organic Tongue Poetry
THIS IS NOT POETRY
Saturday, November 27, 2010
it's gone
twotwentyseven a.m.
dipping my scarf in cold piss
on the bathroom floor
squatting
squint eyes
staring
for a pen mark
on the wooden wall
i wrote once
drunk
i love you
shaking
blurry nights
blend in black
fuzzy eyes
i drunkenly declare
we're gone
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