----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 3 clasped miseries there are three daughters in the shadows of jupiter and i lapped her up like the milk that is traveling down on the road of my hipbone and the way that virgin cells are my savior - it was meant for me after all and the skeleton woman is refleshing in my rearview laughing speeding down the road as a jaguar sad leeza on my shoulder. and i'd mixed the stories again in my head and my thoughts are my nemessis as they always are for every body and i stop - just short but still i am stuck on this one small injured white damsel as a ghost encased in my palms losing scales one flutter after another the way she tips eyes just slightly over her unsuspecting shoulder i walk past everything sideways with a shadow of his black notebook at the hipbones that have saved me all the half dusty photographs reborn in a silhouetted backyard looking on not unlike lennon's own last best friend muffled conversations i was never invited to and i am lapping her up like the milk that is running down the corridors of porcelien wrists met with teeth met with eternal reflections of myself looking into myself looking into myself looking into ... encircling yesterday and tomorrow we are three clasped miseries heads on our shoulder and sighing in endlessly tired singing maybe i'd be happy and maybe i'd i 2:46 p.m. - 2006-08-25 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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