• Ink drips awkwardly off.
    Subtle hands hidden inside of,
    Stiff, smooth evening gloves,
    Fashion statement in its own right,

    Tears slide out from eyes,
    The champagne on the dance floor,
    Spin me around till the very end,
    One last chance and we'll be done,

    We'll fly like no one gone now,
    We'll die like anyone has before us,
    This misery we still are and am,
    In the silence of false hope that echoes.