Monday, November 5, 2012

I will open my door to plague and disease. I am a host, you all can be a friend in deed.
Spinningninningroundand round.
The men who watch you long to clutch you.
The man who won't touch you refuses too
He wont kiss you much

His lips are too dry to read allowed. His tongue is too rough to lap around.

Very few are listening. Those who are, fail to comprehend. Hiking. Stars. Tent. Water. Dog. Ramen. Hands. Hands.

No comments:

Post a Comment