If you were my Konstantine

reeking of stale cigarettes
beer in hand, walking down the street
ditched my shoes for a nice layer of skin
your fingers entwined with mine

i like your eyes
and your hands
and your tongue
     i really like your tongue
i like your legs twisted with mine
and i like the way you tell me
you love me
     that you really might fucking love me

you're just drunk
and i'm just in lust
and we're just fucked up
but this is what they write about
in fairy tales