It's all I ever really wanted, that revelation. The possibility of fixed stars.
I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, men who made you love them then changed their minds.
Love's an illusion. It's a dream you wake up from with an enormous hangover and net credit debt. I'd rather have cash.
Poppies bleed petals of sheer excess. You and I, this sweet battle ground.
You paid for every second of beauty you managed to steal.
Their love as a dragonfly, skimming over echo park, stoppin to visit the lotus. Eating dreams and drinking blue sky.