Living in the comfortable America
All witnesses to the selfless wishes
Herded in the condensation window frames
All waters flow through my teary eyes
Take my smelly hands and warm your comfort
They’ll soothe the most unthinkable desires
Fists a fire whole lines a truce or burdens
Over stimulation piles high for even the lack luster chrome
There on the borderline our change is a groping collage
To know I’m alive accruing the crows or in this case the lion
How pleasant I’d feel in the summer with the smiling stars
Vacant in my imagery like being lost in the woods avoiding the searchers
How can this mean anything to me- til I feel something 
Show me that there is something and then take my hand

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