The first time we kissed
there was fire just like the last
lover, let/s burn bright
sadly, I missed it
that time I should have stumbled
and fallen in love
I couldn't resist
making love to a time bomb
fire stumbles falling
Ideas neatly folded in six inch squares or lying on the grimy floor covered in beer mud and regret.. poetry that inspires a dull throbbing pain in the center of the forehead. circular reasoning and deep insight. My only contact with the outside world. a panopticon.
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