“Where have the animal spirits gone?”
Don’t come near me while I sleep
People who kiss scars are my favourite,
may be second hand but so are we
on a daily basis, going on.
Disappointment digs deep
down the forehead lines
“Ce n’est pas permis d’aimer comme ça.”
Wave goes up and down
like the thought that just went by.
Just another story.
Money’s honey walls are puke for many, too many.