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You Taste like Pink Lipstick
January 9, 2010
We’re quiet over the phone.
The black receiver is close to my ear
so I can hear your breathing,
your sweet rhythmic breaths that
fill the space where I sleep.
We’re quiet over the phone.
The black receiver is my best friend
Because I can remember seeing you earlier,
you with your bright green top and sunshades that
fill my dreams when I sleep.
We’re quiet over the phone.
The black receiver pushed far from sight
so I can forget your breathing, bright clothes,
and the taste of your pink lipstick
because you’re dead, baby,
and I can’t listen to the dial tone anymore.
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Its just another chapter in the past just turn the page dont close the book.