we
smell
of
menthol
&
ebony
&
sin
as i
trace
the
places
that
u’ve
been
on ure
skin
a map
unfolds
of
greatest
conquests
never
told
i stand
corrected
i stand
rejected
u’ll
never
come to
claim
me
so we
blow
back
a
throw
back
to history
repeating
i am still
the
wedge
u are still
the
ledge
i gladly
dive
from
leaping
into
curls of
smoke
ure mouth
evokes
temporary
sanity
eludes me
subdue me
with ure
promises
of
nothing
more
than
stolen
time
to
fantasize
that
i am
ures
&
u are
mine