0
Stubs
Memories that hide in the dirt,
hide from the booze in a broken bottle and burn the ends of an untouched cigarettes.
Memories that pierce the veins and rust my thoughts.
As time crawls over my tattooed skin and dissolves in a languid nosebleed,
I find myself frozen in the shadow of her grin.
An image that spins in my head.
One I can't forget or encase in the precise fumes of a cigarette A dream is stubbed before it burns...
(c) Hanedin 2007