Wednesday, August 02, 2006

japanese twins

and so we frolick down again,to the valley of the known and hidden things,where stuff that has been locked away,buried and drowned are again restored,so the scars still taste fresh against the earth's dampness.the tears become familiar again,and chocolate tastes like tasteless mud.

and at times I don't feel like the string of fibre holding things together,quite the rock that shatters the glass of your neighbour's window.

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