A rash of silicone circles
you spin me into-down trotted light footed
everyones got eyes in the back of their forearms.
A rule book i'll throw ontop of your groin.
Cutt into paper snowflakes with just the tip of your tongue
alluding to man hood holding onto the edges of my beautiful apathy.
A reflex aligned with mine eyes, so perfectly in sync
just for the second i catch you up.
5 centimeters closer.
A start, some pavement- however covered in babies chalk.
good thing i wear boots alot you'd never be able to find me.
1 comment:
you gotta annotate this for me, fiona, or I'm never gonna get it.
I think I got the rulebook part.
Not so sure about the manhood and the boots.
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