Anything
anything is possible it is written or so they saywell ya know one has to dream sometimes
appears the dreams get in our way,
if it takes two to tango, if we wait too long to dance
break a mirror, computer error will we ever take the /chance/
is flashing forwards~crashing backwards into houses in the trees,
you want my hot you want my soul and animal form
maybe I want what is not, what you got, give it to me, all your trips
give me those chanteuse lips, the moment slips around like a satin noose, what is the use, what's your excuse? out in the cold/keeping warm,
I need your number like the sweetest damned curse tattooed in the bloodstreams of my brain~
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2016-10-27 at 01:35
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