weed socks.
“Fifteen minute wait but we have some seats at the bar,”
but is a drink in the hand worth a fine on the bank?
Sisters at a table, sisters in a loft,
I don’t believe in divine judgement,
I don’t believe in fate.
Keep your door unlocked half of any alright day
and they always break for lunch at three.
You’ve got no time for someone who doesn’t have time for their own.
I don’t believe your excuse.
I won’t believe the enemy.
Sardonic eroticism wasn’t enough for you?
I’ll exhaust you to your bones.
Drew up a calendar with fingers on skin,
you were the greatest happenstance after a weathered jubilee.
but rust ever overcomes.
I don’t believe in pathos but,
you don’t believe in me.
