i am the stone that you just threw into the ocean (how many stones have you thrown?)

one wide trade-away, soon this'll
be what we remember, the talks that crave our touch
you just sitting there, whisper barely to me
and turin's stone's throw spells it out so
clearly, we want what we don't want or....

don't want, we don't know what happens
when we touch is undescribable, if anything
settles the stomach, i bend low to see you clearly
and smile at the sun that shines from somewhere dark within you.

2004-06-23 | 6:25 p.m.
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