I Love It When We Fall Out Of Summer Trees And Frolic Through The Grass Beneath

A mirror for my dyslexia

They’ll ship my sink here Tuesday

My bed sheets are down, though I am up

I brushed my hair, I brushed my teeth

I brushed against you

I kissed your cheek

Your throat was a whistle

My lips were the train

Your spine was the track

My fingers softly conducted the ups and downs of your back

Joshua Tool – 09/08/2006

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