Nov 2014
if i were a bird
then perhaps the june-bugs would love me
and they would stretch out their legs to me
embracing in the dirt
like the man with the gun
and the girl with the blue-eyed flower
growing and fading all at once
then perhaps the june-bugs would love me
and they would stretch out their legs to me
embracing in the dirt
like the man with the gun
and the girl with the blue-eyed flower
growing and fading all at once
(a sort of commentary on how we think being above people will make them love us, but that only makes them fear us?)
