Nov. 13th. 2020
The one who lives in daylight,
The one who lives in none.
One builds empires in the sun.
Gold gleaming towers
of revolution, of power.
The other one
drips in satin sin,
makes the best with whisky,
with gin.
Pours it over the earth and bleeds anarchy
into the mud
that holds those sun kissed towers.
She lights the liquor soaked earth on fire.
Dips her body into it, wet with desire.
Grunge and filth.
She takes the moonlight’s silk,
and sews in another layer
of protection
Into my chest.
A bullet proof vest.
So that sunshiney me can’t
Forget or reject
That there are two of us living here
In this fragile human dress.
Comments