no one would believe it, really, except that i would not make that up
lying is only good when the lie is not
lying about excitement is pity
she was pretty
he was there
and there, behind closed doors, of all sorts
oh, if the doors had been open, the neighbors would have stared
and they never would have started
finished so many times
alive and light
in the small of the morning's back
it was wild
to make up for what we lack.
No comments:
Post a Comment