Strolling In The Alley

Midnight ice packs on my sunrise eyes......
Red-patent on my stilted heels, the lies I'll walk for you twice.....

Time for history..... Time for jives.....

40 feet down a strobe-laced runway.
The comments are twisted in a twilight-sky.

We escape like nuns in their pretty-pretty holy hives.....
Just as well, I cry, things never broke like my faith in a pretty-pretty after life.

Believe in the gloriousness of diamond-dusted pink flavored bruises....
They run down the icy streets in blazing repetition....now I can truly breathe....

And then in neon-Northern-lightning we are dulled by the awkward blue.

Saviors, Saboteurs, and the all-knowing Sadistic-Victims are the only ones
now.......


-A little my faith grew-......
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