Home » Jazz Articles » Jazz Poetry » Lauren
Lauren
I toss my ghost, my hat and coat over reached the dead back of the couch, a hounds tooth sky, tiny square dirty white stars. Cleaned with wine, held under a low murmuring horn we kiss, and lower.
You are sweet.
Up all night, the same record playing, doing things which could be scenes from a movie.
I do not feel bad until the earth pushes the plane away. Coins on the eyes, kisses on the lips, she is sweet.
Tags
PREVIOUS / NEXT
Become a Sustaining Member
Since 1995, All About Jazz has championed jazz as an art form and supported the musicians who create it. Over three decades, it has grown into one of the world's leading jazz resources, serving hundreds of thousands of readers, musicians, presenters and industry professionals each month.
Help Build the Future of All About Jazz
Your support helps us continue building All About Jazz for the next generation—expanding our editorial coverage, preserving jazz history, developing new community features and creating better ways to discover the music and the people behind it.
Become a sustaining member for as little as $20 per year and you'll immediately enjoy an ad-free experience along with access to subscriber features and future articles for a full year.
Together, we're not simply sustaining All About Jazz—we're building its future. Thank you for being part of the journey.






