All the lies you have yet to tell yourself staring death in the
face until one of you blinks
The afternoon caves-in as she looks right thru you & boy
you wonder where those eyes have been
The ideal of patience grates on the zipper of your resolve
Walking downhill backwards Taqueria Las Palmas corner of
Nowhere & Pacific, Jim
Lights on the pier as the fog rolls in
Sounds cross the mind easy seeming as she says embalmed
in velvet