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﷯﷯ The unaltered Dropped gone Dead﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Taught me Touch﷯﷯ ﷯﷯And your Delicate White Skin.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯He Could say, Hello, to things﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Like Bumpkin, He can Dance, Alone.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Lowly worm Climbing through by think and feeling,﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Like Wind, Wandering aimless, through the House,﷯﷯ ﷯﷯I am something less, Your Versace Hobo, Designer Dressed,﷯﷯ ﷯﷯For alley Beds and Psycho Vietnam-Vet Parties.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯A Fetish for you, I Know, But seriously﷯﷯ ﷯﷯I’m gonna Have to shave sometime this Week.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯(And Can’t I at least wear my New Jacket for Christmas?)﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Another Hour of Raggedy Homeless Sex, ﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Pure Sensuous Form of Green eyes cloudy with Silver,﷯﷯ ﷯﷯The Gravel of Your Heart, Made of petrified Kittens left in the Box,﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Forgotten and Under the Tree,﷯﷯ ﷯﷯While Even the Wind creaks by you Slowly, Yes,﷯﷯ ﷯﷯The Flowers Of Your’ Bringing Are Fangs.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯And Still,﷯﷯ ﷯﷯﷯﷯Still,﷯﷯ ﷯﷯﷯﷯The Warm Comes﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Without Sound.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯-Thend-

Copyright © | Year Posted 2008




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