jersey_cow_panics raze her teeth hide knives that contemplate kissing your face you wanna shy away but your legs keep cramping up the sun is a million posters hiding on your wall the damp footwork calling from the bottom of a well a hill is a mountain to a baby giraffe it never looks the same the second time through wet blades of grass tickle the toes like tongue teasing tongue in an intricate dance pull back too soon & you'll miss it you got a crooked little smile on your crooked little mouth we can make our own thunder with a wooden spoon & some tin foil we can make our own rain if we learn how to dupe the sky 040606 what's it to you? who go blather from