A Gentleman made of Salt-Water, Mountains, Tattoos and Ship-Wrecks
Monday, October 11, 2010
mind in gutter feet on the ground
out here, things don't go the way we plan. love in uncharted waters. love in anything.
a sinking ship. love corrupt.
love as a whore. cannon fire, walking the plank.
I long for the warm water drowning.
there is no compass and there are no maps. use the skyline. use the stars.
we carry switchblades
we drink from bottles of salt-water tears.
you are the tide that washes over all the names and tattoos.
i raise the sails and let the wind carry me
wherever it will. this is revenge
this is kidding ourselves,
this is other lovers and
this is never expecting to much
this is running away
raise the sails,