Tuesday

blue pens.

Juicy peaches, and untied laces
My love for you is only in my dreams.
Dreams will make you insane, if you
Never stop. The words that come from
Her mouth are as pure as rose colored
Cream and smooth as jazz on a Sunday
Don’t worry about the bushes outside
And don’t worry about all the strangers.
Liquor lips and dead fish.
Solar panels and the end of time
Right before my mind, is when the
Rocket will explode.

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