Making your bed while the moon is awake, slowly but quickly depriving arguments with you.
I have prolonged self pity, constantly rendering speechless moments with you.
The keypad begs to be touched.
Galloping through Nebraska summer cornfields.
Drinking natural crisp unsweetened tea.
Childhood reeks of off-brand gold antibacterial hand soap.
Mead Canary Legal Pads kept my father stagnant.
They keypad begs
The moon awakens slowly while
You argue and I pity the moments
We washed over cornfields in Nebraska
With sweat glazing our foreheads
And the scent gold Dial soap in the distance.
A canary pad,
A tan leather jacket,
A tray of amber glass,
A bunch of sour grapes
Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 2:01 AM UTC
Making your bed while the moon is awake, slowly but quickly depriving arguments with you.
I have prolonged self pity, constantly rendering speechless moments with you.
The keypad begs to be touched.
Galloping through Nebraska summer cornfields.
Drinking natural crisp unsweetened tea.
Childhood reeks of off-brand gold antibacterial hand soap.
Mead Canary Legal Pads kept my father stagnant.
They keypad begs
The moon awakens slowly while
You argue and I pity the moments
We washed over cornfields in Nebraska
With sweat glazing our foreheads
And the scent gold Dial soap in the distance.
A canary pad,
A tan leather jacket,
A tray of amber glass,
A bunch of sour grapes
(A split with Sebstian Rodriguez)
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