“WATERFALL” April 96
The shrunken breasts of nineteen
from a bedside lamp at three
clinging to a love that doesn’t last
the rush of souls that touch
or simply brush past
far too young to make love
while the world sleeps
playing at being an adult
your soul incomplete
trite lovesick stuff
forced on alcoholic orange
worried about homework
or if she can hear
the stains on your life
hair just so
eyes painted to look perfect
in the light
the right colour underwear
maybe you should
dye your hair
for the big moment
you always look perfect as you leave
its what I expect
another small love breathes for the last time
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