Irregular breathing, bittersweet melancholy, malevolent savory

June 29, 2009
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I want a comrade
I want a teacher
,a revolution with the mind of a preachers
,a stampede of muses,
and a tight marquix taunt,
then the ringing phone line,
a mess and a flaunt.
They're sitting on the city bus with puffy headphones on.
I want an artist.
I want a pawn,
an ode to a bittersweet approachable dawn,
a childhood bicycles rainbow streamers.
I want a lover, a consistent dreamer.
A palace of sin with tight pale hips.
Frostbitten cupid with cinnamon lips.
I want a writer.
I want a blanket.
Light light dribbling down the walls,
Grapevines interwine amongst the halls.
Telltale scars,telling our tale,
between cartilidge and tissue screams meticulate fail.
Im sliced and diced. Trapped in a bubble.
I know i feel and i a clue.
I want trouble.
I want (need!) you.

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