Her rosy cheeks aren’t for me.
She’s probably just suffering from a sunburn.
I tend to snuff the light out of the day before it begins, whereas she is stalked by it.
The light follows her like the shadow it creates.
Heat transfers to cold so I’d imagine she powers the sun.
I need shades for both.
Or we could lower the exposure on life.
Let life be an eternal sunset, a picture-perfect half hour that needs no filter – the happiest of hours.
I pick up a half-off drink and I too lose my filter for the night.
The dark lulls me into believing I can’t be seen.
But I’m pale.
Vampires stand out.
My clothes, the color of ash so if I smoke or spill no one can tell me otherwise, don’t cover my mind, spilling all over the place, no matter how dark it is.
The sight of me is replaced with the sound.
When one sense goes, another takes its place.
When one door closes another one opens… it’s probably to a bar.