games

i still remember your tall corduroy walk
your yawning laughs at after thoughts
god if you'd only wear your acid wash
we could go back to where we left off

because in the meantime, i am worn out by non-love. threadbare, a little, stripped. and probably still willfully nihilistic, because it means there's less to get over.

but oh, her.
with perfect teeth and torso
quick wit attractive more so.

i simply must
forget her magazine's made honest, forward,
and my tyrant heart's made chased and awkward

yet i'm so unappealed by the un-games that last night i dreamed we were the last two living. killer machines were on our cavestep, but you were enigmatically aloof. i rolled you a cigarette and we watched TV nervously outdoors, you loved me but you wouldn't ever show it. oh wow, aloof dream shorty, you looked like marion cotillard.
that CHEST.
what incredible sexy fun!