l’orange sanguine


laughing at the last 38 hours

because my nose is still tingling

and my eyes haven’t quite opened yet

but i’m scrolling through these 12 pt font emails

with a smirk on my frosted lips

thinking about this great fucking city

“come into my bedroom”

“come into my bedroom”

my coffee’s cold now

but i’m sure that’s what you expected

when you picture me sitting here

thinking of you

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem