2009-05-12
Ghost Of A Bullet
Fingerprints on my eyes like ten tiny maps to heaven. Or ten rogue angels torching the house of god. I fell something pressing against my kidneys. Maybe a pair of wings. Maybe the ghost of a bullet.
Fingerprints on my eyes like ten tiny maps to heaven. Or ten rogue angels torching the house of god. I fell something pressing against my kidneys. Maybe a pair of wings. Maybe the ghost of a bullet.