I guess you could say ink and paper make the writer, and I guess that's why I choose not to use them.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
pool
Disease is a lie I'm drowning pool side in nevermore clear fields (wheat cools leaning in breezes floating south spores) little boys stealing towels while she's in the water knee deep to the shoulders wet and sparkle sunshine eyes watching (sun bleeds yellow on the earth eternity point in time future red and burning all) today with the gate closed and security guards at home sleeping sleep dreams out beyond work (so what?) she left us no choice but to stare and hope (rising from cool aqua blue)
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