I see lollipop laughing light little petticoats, giggle giggle giggle and you wear that shirt so well. I see wind in the trees (all leaves, all leaves) and books upon books upon your faded leather jacket. You strut, I know it, I know you, page 576 lets study over drinks. At the risk of being lame, I claim comparative negligence the way you’ve been pulling me, on the pull, not pulling my hair but pulling my cliché. Bottom line, footnote time, you’ve turned my brain to mush and I’m an instant gratification kind of girl.
I was never one to hang on to nothing: I’ve just got to kiss you before Christmas.
3 comments:
lovely.
'not pulling my hair but pulling my cliche.'
that's so fantastic.
very nice text, despite my english. some french guy
...you didn't, did you? that's disappointing.
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