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Friday nights & Clandestines
The world is small when it is limited to your own room
And the thick smoke of his endless cigarettes
And cobwebs on the framed pictures of the lovers time buried/
The furniture is dusty with ashes of my past, but he doesn't mind that
He's okay with the fact
that we'll never last and the passion will wilt away like his cigarettes/
2 A.M. and Loving in adagio
Flesh meshing with mine and our heartbeats synchronised
We dont have to speak to communicate
As every caress is open to interpret
We are in separate wonderlands/
The night is unfurling and I wonder if our obscenity woke up the sun but
I cannot think clear because I am inebriated on the cadence of his voice and my head is on his chest
And I listen to him like I listen to that damned song/
Carefully/ intently/ on repeat
From start to finish.
The soundtrack is coming to an end
And so is his last cigarette
I will lay on his side of the bed and watch him leave
But the smoke will stay
And I won't open any windows
I'd let me suffocate/
I'm a writer before I'm a mistress
Hence I'll write love confessions with the remains of our night
And my fingers in the ashtray
Oh how I envied your cigarettes as they
Kiss your mouth more than I do/
But it's okay, you suck the life out of both of us.
