I Z Z Y G A G E | when i look in the mirror i see veronica lake |
it's two in the morning, the heat from the city streets feels like a warm bath and my body has begun to do odd things in this weather; stretch itself out over formica counter tops with cigarettes snuggling close for protection in blackened ashtrays, dreaming of men in dark suits with penciled mustaches and tonic making their hair more like a wet dog's.
in the restroom mirror, a woman's number is written
it's difficult to be impressed | |
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