Bungalow 8 should change their number to 9. Dante would have wanted them to.
I tried to dance, ended up sleeping in the corner couches instead. Acid and wine doesn't mix well.
Next to me a beautiful girl sat crying, mascara all over her pale skin. Like two rivers finding their way through a desert. When I kissed her she didn't object nor did she really get involved. Passive aggressive. I kissed her again, tasted her salty drops of salvation but she remained indifferent to weither or not I was there.
Later, I crawl down between cold sheets. Naked and alone.
- So I just sit here she asks
- Yes, untill I fall a sleep. There's money on the table.
I slept like a newborn baby.