| | Lynne (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.1){kind=small} catinmyhat) wrote, |
It's gambling. Sweep across a shiny wood counter top. Kiss the die goodbye. Wish for a life on it. "Oh please snake eyes, lend me only lies, paint a naive bliss across my lips. Watch me smile snake eyes." Blow a kiss to the wind and hope it lands on my side of the bed. Wake up with you. But when 'not-my-snake-eyes' lets the light in, absorbs in through my abyss, I spit to the air, because you......are.....not.....there. It's Jerry Springer of you to ivalidly love the lover of a brother. I've fallen into the mind of beauty...the body, the eyes, the touch. "What a funny fate you have", they say. "It's suicide", I reply.
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