les pauvres cœurs


Sunday, January 20, 2008

Whisky Mirror

When I see my reflection
the train window
the door
I see that easy smile
those heartbetraying eyes
and I am lost

I am thinking that
perhaps
she was always there
always lurking
and she can't be killed or stolen
my Milesly Rose
its to late
and I've lost myself
to her

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