out of stars ? ground into a powder the many-colored lights strug about the structure 1,000 curvy flights between us and you. yes. no. and out again peeled and not yet ripe cherry suicide my shoes at your door out of stars yet ? yes. no. and out again peeled and not yet ripe polish and file and slick it down pour blood from my throat grind into powder feed it all to you yes. no. and out again peeled and not yet ripe. peeled and not yet ripe. <--- back * home * next --->