| *loolaville _poetry | |||||
| Josephine I don't know who told Josephine she had to be alone. She trembles in dark corners like a desperate mourner and why, she doesn't know. Josephine hides, she cries, and she tries to sleep but the hours creep past her slow. She wants to be safe with a lover like a mother, taking her back to when her hair was thin and fair curled by humid air, and the sun kissed her skin so sweet, leaving her golden brown - not yet found by hands full of lustful heat. Take Josephine and lift her up to the trees, rough bark scratching her knees. Let her climb, twist, and turn hang upside down until spring buds burst and the moons comes around. If she falls the fear calls so hold your arms out strong, and it won't be long 'til the truth settles deep down inside; that the sobbing cries, the sad goodbyes, the trembling sighs, and dirty guys can not reach- can not touch- her soul. |
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