|
The other me stepped aside with golden locks, abrush with amber-golden hair, indeed un-quite-fair, here you are on the other side of the tree, flaunting love and masculinity, quite unaware was she of anything,  much less his shadow, a deeping gall,into which he hoped she may fall and fall, reap, and fall. She, afluster clothed in divinity, strode round and round, sickly demeanor within curls and locks, here I am on the other side of the tree, waxing and waning and wanting and wishing, watch as she wryly avoids me, skips and giggles and blows me kisses, or rather the tree, into which is carved "Vanity, I Love Thee". |
|
Life is prevailing, set forth the constants and consonents don't rhyme and should they and should they not and over and over... .. . fear became my landlord on a day in which days become hate and so into my facade of a restroom i and i and i and so on and so on and... .. . further scratched my back as pleasantly as myself could do it but it was not proper it wouldn't be proper and I am not proper... .. . a stamp licked my tongue with sweaty stickiness and feel goods and this seemed odd in a place like arizona where the heat is Ra and ra ra ra... .. . fetal remnants of myself in the sac in the sac with my landlord and it isn't a thing good to go the easy way and it isn't a bad thing to be seen and heard of and laughed at... .. . and... .. . over and over... .. . so on and so on... .. . |
