May 2017
Standing on my windowsill
Your breakfast blend the only name on my lips
How I wash my exponential coffee cup
With cold rain water
Just to splash me down
As it falls to the ground
Rolling off that fated roof, and feeling amiss
For that is that, and this is this
Your breakfast blend the only name on my lips
How I wash my exponential coffee cup
With cold rain water
Just to splash me down
As it falls to the ground
Rolling off that fated roof, and feeling amiss
For that is that, and this is this
The separation is clearer now. But I'll tell ya a secret...although I'd like to, I don't write fiction.
