Wandering

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It seems like
all I need is your hand
to steady my curious wanderings,
'cuz if you are there with your five-fingered fan
I will not fall down the hole
will not twist my ankles on the moon
will not float under the ocean
it seems like
trees beckon with shifting winds the sun is covered by the clouds above in heaven
trees beckon and I obey, in to the forest, dancing around the rim of sanity,
you hand disappears like smoke
and I am lost little puppy
again
calling lovesick,
I want to gnaw your hand.

if I am lost and little puppy,
will you call into the cold air
opening your front door
to gaze upon the same boring line of cars parked,
safe for the night will you say
oh, where has she gone now,
will you tack up signs to worn wood posts
will you do these things with your hands,
the hands I reached out for,
the emptiness I got instead
it seems like
the air whistling through my teeth
cools my breath wandering in circles
I am
looking for another pair of hands.





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