in la'kesh i'll hold my breat till i'm blue until the next time i see you i'm recording the vocals in my underwear your shit sounds like you...recorded...in a hoodie on a hot day with a fucking ball cap tilted to cover your right eye your shit is fake you're play-acting this ain't drama class it's unhealthy it's only boosting your bipolarity until the handkerchief of history covers us with its times new roman black and white post script i will wear lavender shirts in yellow painted public restrooms looking like art deco in my september complexion and red against blue skies and have those pictures taken to be proof against the dull mood of your high school history teacher that (we wore color) that we distributed the seeds of dead dandelions in cement surrounded city parks that we let our skin soak up the sun despite the advice of modern science that we sometimes wore our hair long and let it curl and never combed it or put it in braids that we taught ourselves to play the pots and pans so that we would have something honest to dance to something soulful to sing to and sometimes we had trouble seeing past our own reflections in the bedroom window because it was dark outside and the fluorescence inside left shadows under our chests and sculpted the torso to look it's friday night fittest yeah i'm vain there was life here before there wasn't and before that there wasn't but seagulls still ate shallow water fish morning boys still cast tall shadows and all the while the stars ...
Keywords: why, bad, entropy, yoni, wolf
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