Wednesday, February 22, 2006

backseat

the sky's sparkling
because the stars are crying,
and the gods are laughing at us;
forming the shapes of our lives
in the sand freely

fingertips lightly altering pathways
we carved for ourselves
with an air of permanence

so let's run away tonight

but I'll never be able to give you head;
see, I don't like
getting on my knees

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