Writer of many seldom read writings. Tell your friends!
It’s three AMand here I sitsmoking on a lit cigarette
Two stray cats before mebut nobody to my rightThe grasses grow tall in the empty moonlight
For once, just us twoThe windows’ half way down, and covered in dew, she drives.
Contentment;And I’m along for the ride.
Words stumble out, catchin’ themselves as best they canagainst oil-slick cheeks and flabergasted lips, so as not to lose their malice.But one man’s malice is another’s contentment