we forget what it means: lingering under the lamplight, anxious to get home,
holding hands as cold and limp as a freshly caught bullfrog.
saying words like, "oh, remember when?" & "why can`t it be like that?"
well, i am sorry if I had encouraged you to feel any less beautiful, or handsome, or creative, or worthy.
some things ought to be said about that.
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2 comments:
bullfrogs are ok. I like tortles, my self.
I find myself sorry, too. More often than not.
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