Black coffee, she is never in style
washed out nail polish in a hand thats not thin, not chub,not long, not short.
Everything is fed with a fork
in a town across a mile.
Hush, she said. i plead you to stay.
He had done his bags, packed the boxer briefs she never dared to wash.
one sip to his cigarrette, the stink will stay maybe forever
in that room, in that mind, in that heart.
The rooms been emptied, everything torn and thrashed
no ideas in her head, all actions were flushed.
She wont say it but
she feels kind of sorry
for there was no glory
this time her lot
was lost
