© Lee Bullitt, 2015

Just Dust

Time is unimportant, 
life feels long and tedious though quite the contrary.

And I like the way you move when you’re thinking underneath .
Cuff your neck, it feels like it’s for me (but that’s because I’m selfish).

Frame your face out of concern 
You sink into your thoughts and I go further into this fantasy of you. Watching you. 
Wistful and lonely, like this great decaying place we occupy. 
This sunken metropolis, New York. And you, and I.

All lost in the same fog of promise, promiscuity. Potential, popularity. 
All lost in this romantic fog.
It’s just dust though and it’s choking us.

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