Sunday, November 18, 2007

after test girl

There was a girl dancing as I left my test, She was innocetly, ockwardly dancing. Like A child not sure how the moves go, doing them corectly, just small, Wearing a hoodly jeans and a smile I loved her. Not in the lustful sense, or the casueal moring sky, no but as in a longing for simpler times, simpler purer things, that Wanted for her to be real, real the way I saw her there, but there was no way for me to find out w/ out shattering the dream, but I have the memory of her forever daninging to the killers (under the gun) to keep me content till the grave claimes me.


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