and water is the landscaper; you step out on that runway every morning; bear it every morning; feel it moving every morning; The runaway runway; I am a fast hand on a cliche; So what? So aren't you? it's a passthrough. this here is just a passthrough
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
the grey mist
Posted by Unknown at 9:14 AM |
Labels: meta-, mysticism, nature songs
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
mah mah mouth it
You always mouth it up so much.
You'd kill for that boy's touch
Mash it out and walk away.
Come back again some other day.
Urge the mind.
Nursery rhymes.
Cursive line.
Urgent times.
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