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Mick Malone
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Strip away my face like an expired billboard; we’ll share our chests between our teeth like sea foam beasts. Remove my heart and its confused rivers and crooked dams, feed it to the dreariest beach in Glasgow when the water swells like your lips from too many front porch kisses. There’s an orchard beneath your dress, a dizzy albatross napping in the leafs, thirsting for the secrets in the hair tucked behind your ear and there are saints whose names I’ve never learned buried beneath your wrists, nestled within the roots with peppermint leafs beneath their tongues and dreaming of helicopter wrecks in the mangled chain link fence teeth of a lethargic hilltop. Speak to me something foreign, like growing hornets nests in the chipped wooden drawers of your desk until we fall asleep sleep to the sounds of humming birds and wheelchairs drowning in the oceans in our wood grain fingertips.
Post Malone - Saint-Tropez (Official Mus...
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