settling down
what would you do if i found a friend?
what would become of us if i wanted more?
in ripples a bent twist,
my confession
a nestled wimper for a nipple and the type of constituency that would
rear its lovely head and beat tired to the summit
for
one last chance, dancing on the moon
fresh faced not forgetting the stars bending the sky,
skill is a fish
set adrift lovely,
dont let me be the lesson that didnt follow suit
home for widows, lace windows, protest the sky from my weelchair, when she writes-
love i was only nothing more than hungry.