from my keyboard.

Saturday, June 24, 2006

arizona.

the sun is out.after the rain.no rainbows though.the heat feels like hot vapour rolling down your forehead,into your eyes.the salt burns.your cheeks flushed;not pink like sex,but red like warmth.the moist coming together of your lips is sweet,only for that moment for soon your well of spit will dry to nothing but coarse walls of throat.oh the heat.

Monday, June 19, 2006

our colouring book.


it is the in-between hours that
last forever.
will tomorow come?will tomorow come?
i dont trust time,when time comes when it wants.
darling get your pyjamas and your crayons,
and spend the night with me.
colour this picture book of mine.throw your colours
over me...
take me to your tangerine sun
and your indigo seas.take me anywhere.
the hours are too few to waste without you.

Sunday, June 18, 2006

i write sins not tragedies

" oh, well imagine; as i'm pacing the pews in a church corridor,
and i can't help but to hear, no i can't help but to hear an exchanging
of words:

what a beautiful wedding, what a beautiful wedding!" says a bridesmaid
to a waiter.

"yes, but what a shame, what a shame, the poor groom's bride is a whore."

i'd chime in with a "haven't you people ever heard of closing a
goddamn door?!"

no, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise
and
rationality. " - Panic! At The Disco, 'I Write Sins Not Tragedies'.