LIGHTS DELUXE
Painted skies
lights deluxe
we’re not feeling sharp enough
choke the lungs within my chest
to rest my head on beauty’s breast
past love lingers overhead
just above the trundle bed
if you draw on my warpaint I’ll hold your mask
but we will not go to war
guilt stained smoking gun dripping on my future tense
this conflict has been lost
I’m fine
I’m fine
I’m fine
you won’t need to hold my hair back
you won’t need to be my crutch
I welcome the familiar rocky stride
I embrace a lunar relapse
By LUKE ROSE
