sometimes you luck out and find one with a soul - someone who'll
kiss you like she means it while the rains soaks you in the
middle of the night and when you say 'this probably ain't
gonna help your cold' she states 'i don't care' plain matter of fact.

one who's laughter's sweet as molasses, and bold as a
leopard, as you try to do to her what cheap wines have done
to her and what tiny kittens have done to her and what
the saddest songs have done to her - if you've got it in you.

don't know what i've got, but i don't worry 'bout that much
; my mind is filled then with golden apples and i
barely am aware that it's still pouring as we stand

shivering, and speaking softly through slender fingers
let's drink these cool drops and let's swallow our own warm
blood, my little dracula, my little mayonnaise -

Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien

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