Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Piss stains

Plenty of places to sit but nowhere to rest (fuck it).
A quiet porcelain embrace.
Walls that sweat.
A quick fix, a strange face. Alone enough to crave an embrace, but to surrounded to single you out.
An empty seat in a crowded room.
This house can keep a secret, just long enough to cut a wound.

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