Creative Company

Does she know, as she strives to be the maker of somebody's life

That these cold cughing colors belong to another?

That we're breaking skin with ballpoint pins?

I am slow,

Though I'm certain that's in relation to the speed of your hand

When you shed all your skin

as a refusal to be broken in ,

did you hide under covers mistaking us as lovers?

I'm sorry friend,

But you've been broken in.

I am slow, though I'm certain our mouths are more efficient than our speedy little friends

This is why you were not right for me.



And here the daylight goes...