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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