undress my palm
we find lines ending at you.
your feet up and down, up and down
your eyes straight ahead
your uniform sealed tight.
in the wool walls of a forgery
is my one chance
i wander through your industrial
preempted youth
i wander through your mother�s
senile heart
i wander through your soul�s
fascist tv
and find myself cringing
with escape
you watch with your loaded gun
waiting for the moment that i cross
into your 3rd degree burns, into your newborn skin
into the parts that keep you hiding
waiting for the moment that i rise
up against, up through
and find yourself in love
when your lines
end at me.
lines
home
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1