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5 inches longer than my hips It drags beneath the floor Stooped picking ends Up If it was storage I lost Then that is what I sorted To be waiting for my return And everyplace is an arrival Some wheels still moved On smooth grooves and grins In varnished pavements Whilst Waving in passing Since these are the oil lengths That will separate this way from that And so will continue As a thousands hues above the ground Sleeping through steam and mist Atop the Atlantic Or beneath with black transparencies during the existential technicolor discos Of arranged meetings of faux upholstery some that moved with the tunes too Though most that stayed glued With that oil that never seemed to dry Yet managed to keep everyone there in place with no reasons why And though closer to tar this was not one that flew in through our Olympic airways nor trains or cars Oh cars With melted chocolate on the plastic grips that stayed for years On stretches of land for legs of chairs to soon expand Some moments are so carefully placed in a room as furniture Never to move With or without the planned dance And through the options here in the sky Here I will decide With open window entertainment which destination and journey I will ride
0
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 10:17 PM UTC
Lost directions
5 inches longer than my hips It drags beneath the floor Stooped picking ends Up If it was storage I lost Then that is what I sorted To be waiting for my return And everyplace is an arrival Some wheels still moved On smooth grooves and grins In varnished pavements Whilst Waving in passing Since these are the oil lengths That will separate this way from that And so will continue As a thousands hues above the ground Sleeping through steam and mist Atop the Atlantic Or beneath with black transparencies during the existential technicolor discos Of arranged meetings of faux upholstery some that moved with the tunes too Though most that stayed glued With that oil that never seemed to dry Yet managed to keep everyone there in place with no reasons why And though closer to tar this was not one that flew in through our Olympic airways nor trains or cars Oh cars With melted chocolate on the plastic grips that stayed for years On stretches of land for legs of chairs to soon expand Some moments are so carefully placed in a room as furniture Never to move With or without the planned dance And through the options here in the sky Here I will decide With open window entertainment which destination and journey I will ride
thibaut-v
Written by
American
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 10:17 PM UTC
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