She is a wet newspaper that you can't just leave on the sidewalk, because the headline caught your attention.
I wish this bottle could talk, too. I wish it could tell your secrets.
It's over and over again, the same dark haired man who loves good music,
straight smiling and gentle expressions,
I dip my hand in, smooth as a bowl of marbles.
I love the feeling of the eyes on me, so I make a disgusted face.