Sometimes you need too think about the end that seems to fall upon us like a sesame street rerun.
She, moves and collapses like lungs. In a car that couldn’t explode
She lays down she sits up; she grabs her jacket to smoke.
Her lungs in and out, my lungs in and out fall asleep
If she would fall herself like a star down upon me
And perhaps miss me I could find all the strength without the roundabout, a place where large magazines move freely with all the pictures of women and music
She
She, my eyes they turn me
Turn me
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