relapses are for lovers [sara in November]

Fallen angels gather at the foot of her bed
And she begs. Once more for good luck
She whispers broken code.
                     And translates binary. Into. Butterfly kisses
I cant resist this. I never could. Sara loves to see me cave

And of course I do.

Xanax numbed and drunk like we used to be
I haven't seen her in ten years. Yet. Still. 
                 She still pulls all the strings.
The angels are laughing. Or crying. [I can't tell]
     It doesn't matter. Really...

I lick the salt from her skin like the commodity
                      .it used to be.
Before the fabrication of currency
                  Before buying low. Before selling high.
  And living high. And telling lies. Needing alibies.

But what can i say.
                          Sara loves to see me cave.

And of course I do.