Lipstick

little lines of poetry
in lipstick on the mirror
you can hardly see yourself
and in that lie the view is clearer.
there're daggers in each stroke and shape,
theres lust laced through the prose.
and your reflection swears it's naked,
though you're standing in your clothes.

lennie.

falling.

rapid fire heartbeat.
less a pulse, more a tone.
the air is thick with apprehension.
somethings breaking
and taking it's time.
and taking you with it into the separate pieces
that used to hold you together.

lennie.

Romeo

knock on her window
and hope she's not sleeping.
you had no idea the buses ran this late,
but it's the perfect fact for summer.

you woke up, drawn to her.
2AM, and she's calling you.
One text that she didn't reply to.
Stings, doesn't it.

But you need her, right now.
To make sure she's laughing and happy.
It's summer.
The air is tight and compressed around your skin.
And if you could see your breath, it'd be fire.
As you reach up
and knock on her window.

lennie.