timelocktoday
In Love
Category: /General/
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I love the words that treat me like moral keys.
Wearing through the night and day asking the
royal flutes to keep playing in the forest.
I love the songs I think of them as soapy bubbles
rising to the sky.
I read smeared index cards that warp and go limp
under the tree roots.
I love the sketches I draw them with a furrowed brow.
Under the sun and clouds resting after drawing grim
pictures which causes the rubber band to stretch.
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