Online Romance Kayla's Song
While the sun is out, drain the water spout to the basin.
A spider crawls about. Your mom brings the crates in,
those yellow crates in. While you're three years old, go
fly to the moon for the summer. It's not all that cold;
you won't need a jacket. It's not all that far away
leaving right now, it won't take a day. You can find your
way by constellation. While it rains outside, fold the
couches down for the wedding, under couchfort by
candlelight with an action figure bride. Tell the dolls
not to be late. 'Blah blah blah blah' will officiate. The
stage is an old milk crate covered up in a sheet fresh
from a drying. While the back trees sway, shine your eyes
this way for a moment. I've not much to say, and my
language, you've yet to begin it. So I'll stick to
lullabies, keeping it simple in compromise. At your
childhood's demise, maybe then I'll tell you more.
