Layers

Suicide notes
and dancing butterflies
have candles
conquer old dusk
While bottles of
sweet zinfindale wine
are shared inside
a tiny apartment
facing west
right off of
Taylor Street
Where youth plays
with madness
and fresh fruit
fills small mouths
of wisdom
lacing lust inside
warm summer scents
As swirls of smoke
from unfiltered cigarettes
cover ripped stars
and tickle the moon
over jovial cats
who play without rules
And time comes
too soon before soft
strawberry lips pout
And shadows fade away
while blue jazz
hangs off a trumpet
until the break of dawn
takes it away
for good

by Charles Lara

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