You got your sheep goat's face up, I see
(this is poetry)
lemon-burried scapegoat so slippery
I suspect you've lined them up with carmel-apple-colored barrettes
baby hog's breath shaped like your wig~wam memories etched like the time you left in leftfield's basketball court skating rink
Christmas used to be mine
I gave it to you as a gift you sent it back to a different address that's how it goes around each time I guess I expect some things to remain as crisp as wonderful yet each return is so changed it leads to the downhill slope I am forever guest hosting
I didn't sign up to be this turn style hostess or even this stylist (did I give you the stylus or just the records?) stuck on repeat, I wish I could dismember the skip spinning on the icon I loved so much how would you like this to be your bones, your teeth, your skin? all to do without but watch it be done in front of you every day would you like two or seven of them to go?
I always just get them to stay
Last edited by rollings on May 19, 2013, 1:28 pm, edited 2 times in total.