Wow Owls! Chris Did You Ruin The Dance Party
we speak in circles in speak with tripping tongues
tripping over our own saliva secreting from our wounds.
these lame metaphors are metaphorically tearing at my
heart strings. if you want some childs play with words,
you want it, you got it. but ive been proven that words
are meaningless. the answer is yes so you can lead your
exegesis to your cross. wipe that cheetah off your lips.
its your leopard like style which keeps me swept away
under the puzzled patterns of your mind where you dont
think ill hide. swept awayunder the puzzled patterns of
your mind where you cant lock me out. and all the soul
singers can sing straight up 'i wish you still called
me.' your words drip with sincerity. your words could
wash me clean. make the kitten coo. strike the felines
fur. you mask your own desires. she masks her own
desires. why cant we say what we want to? why cant we say
what we need to? ive been buried around these same old
broken homes that we found. these words could fill six
bottles. paise them to your lips; sink them to your
stomach. we could fill ourselves on empty calorie
conversation. you used tos peak for something, now you
just recyle shit.
