Nobody Knows


See, if you close your eyes
Into the black lake of my

In heaven…
up and disappearing like that
It’s a place with lots of airplanes

That one already burned…
lap at the waves
Stinks of sunlight

Wish I could find something
pretty hands a nice manicure
She fell asleep

Paper, scissors, rock
unpack your own toys

no loud voices or screaming
But you go back to him
I have to lick the lid

Still Photography:
molten heart
what could be inside?

your water service
calling me into the dark

A nation that flourished.
None for me
Damn. It’s cold

She’s not coming home today
And the wind’s blowing so hard
in this film are entirely fictional

be able to stay together
With eyes as wilted as ice
There are seeds here, too

Want to splash around in my heart?
Mr. String, Mr. String,
Will the angel even give me


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