I’ll spin your gossamer words into the horizon.
My skin is glass underneath her firecracker fingers & it's so wrong. The melting, the burning her gaze belongs miles high above the stratosphere with the supernovas & black holes. It's so wrong that she is limited to the rabbit holes of this atmosphere trapped in gravity & cynicism. Her name is a curse word on my tongue. I promised her, to keep it safe there. It's an imprint, a warning sign, a mantra. It's so wrong, it's so wrong, it's so wrong, like an old eighties record skipping in my mind.
My skin is glass underneath her firecracker fingers & it's so wrong. The melting, the burning her gaze belongs miles high above the stratosphere with the supernovas & black holes. It's so wrong that she is limited to the rabbit holes of this atmosphere trapped in gravity & cynicism. Her name is a curse word on my tongue. I promised her, to keep it safe there. It's an imprint, a warning sign, a mantra. It's so wrong, it's so wrong, it's so wrong, like an old eighties record skipping in my mind.