A TENEMENT ON JONES STREET
A TENEMENT ON JONES STREET
A string of clear rope lights hang
overhead .
“Those are stars” she said.
“We can’t see the real ones from
here so these will have to do.”
But the wine is real,
as the cap
is unscrewed.
She told me that she loved me
with all her heart,
but not her eyes.
I told her the same lies ,
but with me it was just
a matter of
thighs.
So here we sit under our
make believe stars
with no moon
and the
flowered wallpaper hangs lifeless
between the curtains.
We drink our wine and
make believe it is
tomorrow.
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