Thursday, November 20, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Dreamsiren.
you walk around
as you scatter your petals
of pressed hydrangeas
from your father's bible
in polyester paradise
your hips swing like the bell
at Notre Dame de Paris
and pardon me if I notice
more than what meets the nerves
'cause I came to observe you
not to touch what I don't deserve
it wasn't real, nor was it wrong
but I saw it in my head
under the looming moon
and I felt I was a pistol
firing out of my bedroom
as you scatter your petals
of pressed hydrangeas
from your father's bible
in polyester paradise
your hips swing like the bell
at Notre Dame de Paris
and pardon me if I notice
more than what meets the nerves
'cause I came to observe you
not to touch what I don't deserve
it wasn't real, nor was it wrong
but I saw it in my head
under the looming moon
and I felt I was a pistol
firing out of my bedroom
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