november skies

I’ve a picture on my dresser of an innocent tourist.

My dream girl has a plain, old boyfriend who

hasn’t fucked up yet and she knows

she’s my dream girl.

I tried to talk to this bartender named Nicki but

I couldn’t think straight.

I bought a guitar for my salvation.

Music and sugar make me

crazy for everything

but the sugar always wears off.

Stop.

See the noise.

Shyness keeps us strangers.

Fortune makes us lovers.

You are the sun and

I’m your planet.

Copyright Timothy Downs

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