She gets high to forget feeling low. In that instance the hair on her legs and her blood pressure spike, saluting the broken record chips rhythmically spinning above her dimmed wits. Up, down, with nothing to break down. Deeply depressed, she's high but low.
Love today looks like brown butter bourbon ice cream and sunlight Like body oil on soft legs And smoothie cream in even softer hair Like breathing and disappearing in sheets Like breast free of cups that don't hold me like the universe does Like lips that taste of caramel And a bedroom that heals in lavender Like woman done waiting Like woman simply being Like body untouched, un-tethered.
love is blind, we are used to that, but have you known, love has legs, it ran away, or did you know, love can't speak, probably that is why, she left without saying
Some sit on a pile of books Not knowing the worth of their seat Not knowing that the paper holds the tongues of a thousand souls They sit on their bright future If only their legs could read
Is there a cloud under that tree? Is there a cloud under that tree? a small moth ***** its wings it's in the cupboard it's in the cupboard a feeling sends a nerve to hover and be strung out a nerve sends a feeling to cover and be shut out Six legs clutched to dusty rosewood eyes spread and eyes should breathe kindly in life Six legs clutched to dusty rosewood eyes spread and eyes should breathe kindly in life Light Glowing light Pushes through a line It pushes through the line It's bright and it's close to mine light glowing light closer but through my fingers tighter but shadows linger through this light glowing light a moth ***** its wings
