Quiet night, thought becomes a whisper.. Not a word you say could ever hurt me.. Screaming streets are so quiet now, they are sleeping,. just like we're about to..
Where is my shit?. oh. you know it. . She's making love for breakfast. in Venice. In the little white house with rent control. She's got. Turquoise tiles on the counter in the kitchen.
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Out of the dawn I made a blueprint. drawing it down from among the stars. I gave permission to the floodlight. but I wasnt really the one in charge. When the air cleared I saw it moving.