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a child of the door . . . . (quick first draft)

a cactus king blowing
raspberries in this make
believe you hardly
know in the cardboard
sundown I've yet
to find the dignity
of a proper fork
it is not true
that we are bunnies
it is not true
it is not true
we are balled
and waded we've
sporked this city
we've frosted
the tooth kings
my love my love
is the snow yet
to fall the solitude
changing hands
I travel these streets
with jeden bilet


Cioara Andrei said…
Foarte interesant subiectul postat de tine. M-am uitat pe blogul tau si imi place ce am vazut.Cu siguranta am sa il mai vizitez.
O zi buna!

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