sleepy nothings
in the chill of indecision. dripping liquid,her hidden features. she walks softly to the mirror. presses her forhead to the pane. rotating, foggy impressions of art and metaphorical love. fingers shaping solemnly. she makes a figure un recognized and needed. not needed. vainly yearned for. and it’s just a mess of movement and garbage lyrics!
beat on that drum a little faster. your indecisions burn you! learning lines like lurid love songs. it’s a deep drum beat rythym. taring into footsteps and cross phrases.
you’re dripping the chill of womanfull words upon me. wait….move just slightly.that’s a girl. let us pass on through.
Posted by
at
04:27:59
Not all our thoughts can be purposeful!