are men marching with acoustics over warm and rolling, tumbling, hills. the downs. here and there. knobby knees of cast iron kettle green. a stretch long enough for the clouds to lay their bellies on the grass(and run along and thru a wood like children with streaming ribbons).
pretend youre an airplane. an airplane above the sky. you know no better and i want no better than:::
:::arms in the rain:::
please let me remember: i take you by the hand. knot our fingers like a language you cant untie. with fingernails clenched white; there is no place i would not follow; fast first to sleep then vanishing shadows running from; parted morning curtains; swollen with sun.
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4 comments:
i expect royalties.
i dub thee Sir Brie... Knight of the Internets.
(and there was much rejoicing)
hahahha word. (except try Lady Brie, Ruler of All That Is Cool.)
and carry on, carry on...rejoice!
oh man, i think i gave way to narcissism, and failed to mention the brilliance of this blog...'tis lovely.
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