Sunday, January 22, 2006 . 2:04 AM
:From the fain:I had a breathe which got caught
Somewhere betweens the flower pots and the frying pans
Something I held wrapped in paper but everyone knew
It would escape
I had a thought I remembered I lost
Between twisted sheets which we all shared with you
With oil and grim even I could not wash off with my mind
I tried to defunct myself instead
I found an onion I took for a white rose
And realized that it would never prick me so I flew it too the moon
That was when I started suspecting my eyes for being blind
How could the beautiful not prick?
I found back the breathe I forgot to take
Put it in my bag to remember
I was blind and tripped on a rose
And the beautiful escaped
this is me tapping into the 19th century works
wordsworth,hopkins and the lot.
strangely i felt it with the play of words.
it was painful to unload but i think i got it down to precision.
note the capitals.
i tried hard on this one
zoning out soon..nites
[headmusic]: dephazz and "how" by lisa loeb
