i can't even trust myself

lounge lives, a barfly dances on rooftops (i can't sleep from all the fucking tapping of his toes on the top of my home) and blame is always so shrotlived. i'm trying to pin down the point at which we stopped being everything we could: a man who changes countries, a glance that changes lives, a motion that changes meanings, a woman that changes the world. but we move on, rocking back in our cubicle chairs and sunsets apss without out knowledge, we're not even noticing how mgihty the wind or how grand the growing of things, how fine it is that people know so many things, feel so many things, live through so much.

when did we stop paying attention? when did i stop paying attention?

2004-06-25 | 1:34 p.m.
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