Back Again

May 25, 2009
You were up there for
a butterfly beat
and a three eighth count
glittered corneas stuck to feather boa brains
cling to your shadows
the gutter rats missed
the stench of Chanel
they saw you on those glossed up pages
a fairytale for the lost boys
and every found girl
but all the I do believes
in all the streets can’t
sever your ties to your bones.

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