growing older
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I read a book about a girl named Zazoo
But maybe that girl was me.
She made poems as she rowed a boat in a canal
And watched for her sad gray cat
And thought about the war and how terrible the world is
i wish summertime was more than just gentle breezes flowing through windows.
a pool like an altar.
no one to worship, though,
where have you been.
Bright and new, like a shiny new car. The extatic feeling flushing through the mind buries the inevitable in which to come. For a moment everything seems trife, everything changes as fast as life itself.
Wrinkles
Wrinkle, wrinkle
Teeth falling out, and then falling out again much later
But the second time you have to replace them.
on day one
you take a deep breath
and scream.
your mother is laughing,
your father is smiling,
and the nurse is holding you
Oh to be innocent and untouchable.
To have a mind bright and carefree.
To have love, simple as a swingset