let me see your teeth

im searching for violets
among snow
tiny glitter anthems
and slop buckets
that boy is no monster
youre more precious
than an heirloom
grandma marion places
ceramic santas on mantles
and we shiver and shake
hands held under hanukkah dinner table

lets move, lets live next to
a bridge with open fields
play soul music and drink
40's on a monday
that night you
fire man carried my best friend through
the streets of the mission
you were it for me

i like kissing you over
room service heat and
dirty laundry
im looking for that clove smoking girl on the hill,
remember her?
you make me want to find
her, again

im tired of the ha ha
tired of the lols
you don't remember how it felt?
cigarettes and fruit punch snapple
kurt vonnegut, long toenails arent funny
just because I adore you -
doesnt mean i dont want to laugh

I'm tired of faking it

sunday night loft party you were the
guy with the attitude
high on house
and asking for pills
it gets less complicated with time
until were all just fiddlers
on fourth street
baring our teeth