in between
your two ways
(your happy go/crazy
vibe
and your
un/glued rampage
silent
type)
i fly
for cover, i converge
on
two lonely old lifestyles
not meant
for anyone
like me...
i feel like
mesopotamia
except i
never gave birth (and)
in between
your times i
cradle every/little/thing you gave me
in
the lonely palm
of
my hand...
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