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letra de grand central hotel, october 2012 - marble season

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head of your toothbrush in the bin
you brush so violently
silently memorising the small talk for the cab ride home
like honeycomb your toiletries are laid out exquisitely
brushed into your bag
as your eyes study the socks on my feet

my reflection in these hotel mirrors, they look more like me
faulty
these twitches on my neck
they reflect
i have never been good at dates
i’ve never believed in fate
i’ve never been good at sticking to use-by dates

my fingernails are the cleanest they have been in six years
but you’re flying too close to the sun again
riptide, landslide, i’m left by the roadside
while i follow my tongue on the road till i die

pillow-talk about the afterlife
i watch you die before my eyes
i must sleep before i begin to grieve
for the living
the sting of the pendulum and the transfer of the energy
that sits beneath your skin
burns with abject ecstacy

my fingernails are the cleanest they have been in six years
but you’re flying too close to the sun again
riptide, landslide, i’m left by the roadside
while i follow my tongue on the road till i die

we shut a window on a fly that night
and above us we watched as it danced with the light
but as morning came and the sky was aflame
it bounced off the gl-ss with fickle shame

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