Here's a thing that isn't true but it feels like it is I've been alone since I was born I googled: Elderly lesbians to cheer myself up But the results were all pornography
Duos on the television Sparring with recycled words Children building wooden houses Before they've ever met a bird
Well I'm still not sure exactly what it means To be living in exile from old dreams
Once, I had an idea And I could not be repaired If I could find a word to describe myself entire Then I would know what to wear
Standing at the arch of the gate Spitting fruit into the trash Double falls and following trains And bent pennies in the grass
Well I'm still not sure exactly what it means To be living in exile from old dreams
I can't see Past the rims Of my glasses In the night sands