lam.also.can.blog

I’m tired, girl. I guess it’s really over. I’ve tried and I’m tired with guessing it over and over again.

Honey, we’ve got it all going. You could swerve out of control, you could stick a post-it on my soul. Come here, let me hold you by the hand, let me swing you into outer space, let me… recall, we could reverse the acoustics of past service cause if you haven’t tried then you’ll never know where we’ve never been and never go. I could loose you here, in a turquoise stream the clouds shade, in a biscuit box of my mistakes. Come here, let me hold you by the hand, let me swing you into outer space, let me… let go, its differences you formulate with age, the etiquette of puberty and alcohol that you’ve never tried but you want to know where I’ve never brought you to and never showed. I could disappear, right here, in your qualms and assiduousness, in the midst of this transitory finesse. Honey, we’ve got it all going but its bittersweet now to know that you’ve tied yourself to another male of another shade…

very the furry. i feed him almonds and apples. i’d cook it with curry. and potatoes and tomatoes. i like

Almost 27. August. 5th of the second millennium. It could’ve been 32 months. Its figures I’ve figured out with my fingers. I remembered. Delete. I’m 23 and older. Three tries to tie me down on a float. Maybe Saturday. Anon. The 24th. Want boils my gastric for your audience around me. Almost 27 but I’ve wrapped the 23rd month in black plastic. 6. 12. 10. 7. ¼ is depleting. I’m obliterating. I need the space.

684.21 arpentcans, 518,254.18 arpentlins, 0.00020256 astronomical units, 828,494.09 bolts (of cloth), 1,506,352.9 chains (surveyors’ chain), 994,192.91 engineers’ chains, 3.03E+22 fermies, 99,419,291.34 feet, 130,958,451.82 Greek spans, 6,276.47 leagues, 47,006.76 li’s (Chinese li), 718.17 marathons, 18,829.41 miles, 5,454.1 nautical leagues, 39,767,716.54 paces, 4,970,964.57 ropes, 276,164.7 skeins, 163,698.06 stadias (Greek stadia), 1,000,026,400.72 suns (Japanese sun), 28,405.51 versts (Russian verst), 30303 kilometers…

You vomit a rainbow, into my begging bowl. Slander. Beauty. The thirst of my eyes. 20 years. Life was a stroll in white shoes. Seroconvert. Scratching heads for that familiar hollow sound. Big stone. Spring flower.

vous semblez nouveau autour ici du. sixième étage ? regard à cette époque il est près du minuit qui est les cheveux courts intéressants. ne me regardez pas que la manière je suis somnolente, vous devrait être trop. vous semblent si français. je veux sourire et cacher. le sixième étage, sortez.

I got your notice. It’s fabric. Its posh glittery oysters we talk about before sleep. You had breezy weather whispering me tender ferments, footprints dressed for Sundays. Some kind of relief, coins you mass into my mouth. It tells. Its words on the curtains that impedes the bankruptcy of yesterday. You could wait behind your smiles, in your castle made of sand. I’ll fetch you mirth, in my blue car and I’ll let you shift the gears. It’s juvenile. It’s your insinuations of prophesy. Its valiant love we dim with careless white sheets.

cause i heart you and we could drive around Siglap in your Fiat. we could stop for waffles on tuesdays. we could fly economy in your imaginations on sundays and thursdays. and maybe we could get a pet chincilla and name her ‘Hello’. cause i heart you and we could smile smile smile.

to swathe my ass and warm my legs.