A ticklish little one, all nerves, all senses
But soulless? Nothing but instincts?
Well, all green and moving like magic
fat and juicy, a tasty meal for birds
To me you are the one who measures
each branch of the bewitched tree
the one that witnessed how the apple
opened the lock of that childish garden
of tainted innocence and bound souls
nothing but pets held in pointless lingering
captured by total ignorance
set free by your cousin, the snake
Originally Posted On Site: 2009-05-18 14:23:28
Last Login: 05.24.12
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