Tuesday, August 11, 2009

it never makes sense

if i could take my brains
and erase all the times you saw pain
at my hands and my feet i hope what would remain
is a beautiful scene that a painter would paint

if my silliest wishes were chalk
i’d draw on the sidewalk us both in a frock
coat and me with a parasol gleaming we’d be
floating through rivers of creamy ice cream

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