Ford Suite

Amaya López-Carromero

In the arms of oblivion
I sleep dreaming of you
Of what you aren't
Of what I want you to be


You are the escape to myself
And I want you because this
Wouldn't work


You can hurt me, kick my stomach in
Leave me breathless halved and open
Leave naked and alive


Don't wanna share no breakfast with you
Just a glass of whiskey
In the back seat of your car
With your blue eyes burning hole
In my, in my skirt


I would talk and you would laugh
And a moth eaten sheet can serve me right
To cover you up in the middle of the night


And in the silent fall
Of the empire of trust
I'm back into my shell
I should have never left
And through the chattering space
My feelings swell, am I torn out?
But wait


The drinking warmness in, the shadows fall
Amongst the railway tracks, behind the wall
And hanging legs that float
And broken child that spoilt


And my voice will break
My hips will shake in deconstruction of grace
How to start when I only think of ending?
How to care when our hands are blending?

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