story :: February

February 12, 2008

You make me want to play the piano, the guitar and the drums

You make me want to sail and swim without being afraid of sharks

You make me want to have five children and live in a farm with lemon trees

You make me hear the rhythm and other details

And you make me want to write a lame poem as follows:

I am yours fire and ease

I am yours draft and masterpeace

I am yours single and a heap

I am yours surrendered and a peep

I am yours frail and keen

I am yours fallen and genuine

I am yours whacked and juvenile

I am yours sober and high…

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