Infer: This is a moment. This is a resembled movement. A document a drawing a low blow a fuck. We sift oceanic bewteen what happened and the dream. We drunk and fumble. We are aesthetically pleasing.
We are floating out.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Twenty-Two
He tells me next time I drop a penny in a well I’m going to wish my wish doesn’t come true,
that somewhere people do perfect things.
I look at his eyes and think I am old.
I want a new sky to undress. I want something new to confess.
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