Traffic Signals.
The icing on the cake with no messages on my phone.
“The cheese stands alone.”
And all that I am is pink, cherry blossom pink, without pits.
I still have acne, large whitehead zits but with shame I am holy.
To be with you some day.
I weigh the consequences of what kind of man you are and what kind of woman I am.
Could we ever be born equal?
As all men have been created or are we rats chasing down the perfection of bats.
I cannot know
but I love you
through thick and thin
rain drenched impenetrable skin.
To be no more alone.
To be no more alone.
To be no more alone.
She stops at a red light.
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