The window square
Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.
I noticed recently I'm really attracted to women with naturally auburn hair, I don't know what it is about them. I suppose because both Rachel and Peanut were red heads, it probably began with Rachel. But they are so very attractive, good hair.. I don't know. well.. yes. that was a thought anyhow.
The haircut spills a side to a life less ordinary than mine. Mostly completed by legoblocks (colour dependant on the state of the floor). Singing in the background you are miming the rules of the day. This song makes you hot. It would be a tragedy to waste an opportunity so green. I missed your laughter and your hands. If only you knew. I'll tell you if you can keep a secret.
Between the intermission and the finale ---words will roll from tongues like kisses, so effortlessly placed upon loves firm brow. It is all a greed, a seizing muscle of contraction for breath. Greed for love.
Reinstate love like reins of unhostilaty, genuinely meaning our sand drifts of words; these delightfully act, forming hazes around faces, and fingers upon mouths. We speak in another tongue because the words seem to flow consistantly towards the right direction. The direction is never now. But you find yourself here anyway, waiting with a smile for your love.
Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.
I noticed recently I'm really attracted to women with naturally auburn hair, I don't know what it is about them. I suppose because both Rachel and Peanut were red heads, it probably began with Rachel. But they are so very attractive, good hair.. I don't know. well.. yes. that was a thought anyhow.
The haircut spills a side to a life less ordinary than mine. Mostly completed by legoblocks (colour dependant on the state of the floor). Singing in the background you are miming the rules of the day. This song makes you hot. It would be a tragedy to waste an opportunity so green. I missed your laughter and your hands. If only you knew. I'll tell you if you can keep a secret.
Between the intermission and the finale ---words will roll from tongues like kisses, so effortlessly placed upon loves firm brow. It is all a greed, a seizing muscle of contraction for breath. Greed for love.
Reinstate love like reins of unhostilaty, genuinely meaning our sand drifts of words; these delightfully act, forming hazes around faces, and fingers upon mouths. We speak in another tongue because the words seem to flow consistantly towards the right direction. The direction is never now. But you find yourself here anyway, waiting with a smile for your love.
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xoxo
~Bru