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Yeah there is some of this still stuck between my bones. White like sea birds dipping on the wind You are thunder and lightning A wind that pulls at my only soul The scratch of the grasshopper As rain taps here and. There On the roof Can you understand That the gust of your word breaths Dip deep rooted trees A haunted howl on the wind The scent of lavander and rose bud How that would smell On the give of your neck The waves stir demon high From the scream of your whisper Floods homes next to the sea But I would sleep on a wet floor Sleep cold in your wind Today I threw it all into the river And the pieces all splashed Pulled along the current If I die Put my body in the sea Where your storms boil
0
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 10:35 PM UTC
Dreams
Yeah there is some of this still stuck between my bones. White like sea birds dipping on the wind You are thunder and lightning A wind that pulls at my only soul The scratch of the grasshopper As rain taps here and. There On the roof Can you understand That the gust of your word breaths Dip deep rooted trees A haunted howl on the wind The scent of lavander and rose bud How that would smell On the give of your neck The waves stir demon high From the scream of your whisper Floods homes next to the sea But I would sleep on a wet floor Sleep cold in your wind Today I threw it all into the river And the pieces all splashed Pulled along the current If I die Put my body in the sea Where your storms boil
jacob-1
Written by
Equatorial Guinean
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 10:35 PM UTC
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