7AM, she slides in the door with rain on her skin, smelling like sweat and stale cigarettes, traces of purple at the edge of her mouth, passport folded in her backpocket, still dark in the city, she lays her palm over her flighty heart, holding her breath as the keys turn the ignition, driving south before she disppears...
Teengirl Fantasy - 7AM
via 20 jazz funk greats
No comments:
Post a Comment