alright, alright, we just lost touch. but not good for niente.e feel light years apart, almost two souls outside now. Joey and gray hat. *** Blacks and his hair too too too all rebels. Striped sheets and stamped into his hands. sheets and squares in the hands stamped. thirty-seven. eyes that even the most close to live without dreams. dreams do more harm nightmares. a comma printed on the white wrist where the veins disheveled s'attorcigliavano between them. and Joey and the words were gone. the bones and cherries between cold hands in the middle of June. bell'inganno six that my soul and what a great time my lovely company I spied delude and fail to abort their children as dreams.
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