subjects
it isn't always the thing one goes on about that feeds the frenzy so often, there's fire beneath the door, opening alarms and sometimes when you're talking, tilling the soil about a song or naming a name or dialing a number, raving wild-eyed and glowing you're really just the song of loves and smiles pulling heat out from some other, kinder place where your thoughts are on some sweet young thing and the flames from the window sill the power in your breath is descended from there the subject at hand is only incidental.
2008-03-03 | 10:29 a.m.
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