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i haven’t forgotten the flower that hid in your bosom, or the honey of your voice when we both had landlines. the winter dried up all our bushes, but sweetie, it’s spring: these wings, they know their purpose.
i haven’t forgotten the flower that hid in your bosom, or the honey of your voice when we both had landlines. the winter dried up all our bushes, but sweetie, it’s spring: these wings, they know their purpose.
TIK-ka-tik-TIK ka-POP tik TIK-ka-tik BANG neighborhood hambone, cooling-off cars. no cats. crisp. too busy for midnight. jeez, the cops. tomorrow. ENOUGH.
seven hundred bucks a decade and a half ago. three times in the pawnshop since. i loan it out. it sings for better hands than mine. a good investment.
I think i should. if i were true, that’s what i’d do. i want to be that one who does. who does it ’cause it’s just the thing to do. who does it beautifully