Saturday

green hazel eyes.

paperclip and cat tale.
the night is young while it's gold.
we will see the faces of death, we 
will greet the unknown.
it will consist of brave humans
and cold beers.
don't think, we are humble,
the dreams inside my mind is as
whole as a melon can be.
she moves up and down the highway
with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth.
dead roses surround the living room,
inside glass bottles they live.
beer that is delicious, it swims on my tongue.
yellow, purple, i read the newspaper.
ink on the fingertips, rings around their waist.
follow me through the forest, green and deep.
see only love here, the last warrior.
step upon the dead, we can hear you think.

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