Sunday, September 27, 2009

a boy named runcible spoon

He wants

To think he’s holding this whole thing together

Getting drunk on new philosophy, and random acts of what not

And tests the water,

To find, she too, hears it the way that he does

But fails the next round by not being interested in circles.

An awkward structure, she is just a frame

For such precious metal and sinking feeling

And leaves him in his crumbling city

To go ride out this storm in a teacup

With a boy named runcible spoon

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