othelladub's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- mist Strawberries in her eyes She's a rasberry singer, delighting in memories of attrition, raining down cymbals of selection. The drums beat, the lights dim, the score cranks in. The soft-lens is so sharp in its location. Direction lies in the company of breaking bricks. "Glow child - glow in your sweater-slam! Against the car you smash! You feel the chill-crack of the night, the streets wrapping you in car exhaust, the asphalt settling on your soul." The organ hums in the courtyard. The clapping of shoes leads her away from graduation. Her lip cuts through the mist, and no tears remain.
What the hell? (1)
You're incredibly bright, innovative, and handy with a whip! 11:32 a.m. - 2003-05-30 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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