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2002-07-28 - 3:15 a.m.

i guess it was about time to let this be here. and let it speak. move move move. here: speak

Ravi
No ears in the room,
an ing�nue sank into misery,
fair-skinned and puzzled by
Boolean shame.
Her god was a painful blond.
When they were alone,
his recitation from memory,
�grass mouse grass house�.
She trembles in his cutting gaze
enthralled into shivering tranquility
by his acoustic deception.
Maybe he plays
for all the girls on the block
songs in green lawn chic.
Our secret right?
Written in yellow and red inability.
Boy, will you stay
a little longer now?
Two against two.
Brass bed blank and broken,
wait for nascent sensation.
Cure her pain,
with the fume of his pout.

baah