Your movement takes you ten afterplans past your melody
Lifting and dropping like a voice through Denver
Before your bandmate yells “Holy shit” you cycle back
And yell above your range like my Katie in the desert
Breeze placing her finger with bitten down nails on her
Clit and giving herself an orgasm towards the “Gelbe Kuh”
poster in the dorm room of Billy Winter you were sort of on fire
On stage I think you sorted things out from years of traveling
To Anne Frank in Poland no time machine no music
-Shark
0 responses so far ↓
There are no comments yet...Kick things off by filling out the form below.
Leave a Comment