It's time to make up for lost time
it's cold outside of the door
I scribbled a rhyme on the paper
hoping you'd forget it on the floor
but you swooped down like a hawk
and stole the tail of the mouse
I ran inside of the wall
I was in my own house.
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Soaking up the rain and whipping spit of the waves, as he stood next to the ocean of my memory, a fire hydrant in a red windbreaker, glaring...
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"Well...that was dramatic." I didn't know what he meant until I saw the ink spilled everywhere and the moths in her hair like ...