Archives for category: art of our own

hips swivel like a hook, a cheap torso trick. hit the world stage with your neon lies and nab the next man, his eyes squished from the light and looking elsewhere.

most of the night was spent looking out over the river, sweating through her nightclothes. one ear pressed to the window to hear the plants wilting outside, their leaves in limp relief, a dark green against a darker green sky.

one day you awake to find all your friends are experts. pipe smoking, hand-made tortillas, “new media”. you clicked away a career on celebrity gossip websites, one time you roasted a cornish game hen but when push comes to shove, could you make it again?

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I followed you home/ I followed you home darling/ until we reached those iron bars