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"Title Track"


Left uninspired by the crust of railroad earth that touched the lead to the pages of your manuscript.

I took my thumb off the concrete and saved up all my strength to hammer pillars for a picket fence.

It wasn't quiet what it seemed... a lack of pleasantries (my able body isn't what it used to be).

I must admit I was charmed by your advances... your advantage left me helplessly into you.

Talking how the group had begun to splinter and I could taste your lipstick on the filter...

I tried my best to keep my distance from your dress but call-response overturns conviction every time.

My memory cannot recall... a wave of alcohol we shared a cigarette and shaved the hours off.

Lushing with the hallway congregation, my best judgement signed its resignation.

I rushed this.

We moved too fast, and tripped into the guestroom.