we hello'd because you're not the sort of person to be pretty babied; we hello'd and began our walking, walking. walking, walking toward the something. the afternoon. the car. the question. the car.
ah but can't you take a load off, pretty baby? that must weigh some bale of hay, a silly thing, and it's going to drown you. 'oh my darling,' i would say, should say, 'it's going to drown you.'
brown paper tied with twine and we somehow defy the passage of time. wrap around each other, to scoff and dismiss. divulge via kiss. it just is.
so hey pretty baby let's go downtown. we can drink away the looming insect, that you're going to drown. in my dark crate of a room we can find ourselves entombed by the stones we've thrown at our reflections, how they ricocheted back, hit us right in the lungs; we're on the inside.
it's all right my cynic the damage is done. it's all right pretty baby don't you worry so much. it's all right on the inside, it's all rather dire. there's nothing we know better than being under fire.
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