Kris and Rozz
she sings in smoke filled room
and its like hearing two songs at once
but its just noise because
there’s too much being said
when no one is really listening
behind her
he tightens c(h)ords
in search of music and veins
injects, lets go
as god enters her mind
they are/were
a portrait of
affection and dying
adorning the walls of
a crumbling building
labeled “for storage”
she knows that
no one else can
love her like this
with such abandonment and rage
with desperation that
begs for her touch, her gaze
whatever fragments she might
dribble his way
they pretend they
will grow old together
slipping through gaping holes
without walls to which
to nail themselves
they hang
themselves
from stars
copyright JANE’05
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