To peep through pretend glasses, sprinkled with rhinestones, and tortouise shell rims.
To play driftwood again.
But in the wee hours of the night,
My eyes pop open
and the new words ticker tape by me,
bleached out confetti hung out to dry on the line...
Somewhere off in the distance,
the old words,
bouncing off a Drive-in movie screen,
are bigger than life....
And I'm haunted.
By the laughter. The naked laughter of wreckless nights.
the skinned knees
by the accidental high
Ghosts never slam doors. They rattle chains, but they never slam doors.....
In the morning, I'm putting dead bolts on.
And tomorrow night,I'm dancing....