May Apples from Mira by nudephotosofcelebrities

In a form, inside you, my dream
I see a clown despised for what, I don't know.
He broke his nose to be a tortured face, outside
one lemon day, one lemon day, she'll cry.

(edible sexual tensions, I'll know)

I thought in whispers and trained my legs to kick forward blows. I fought off the advances of tin soldiers dressed in drag-net, fish-net police uniforms.
Nothing happened, I swear it.
I didn't mean it when I said you were eviscerated, I swear it.
I swear it.
Then we were standing in palm-frond darkness- cool nail-filed strips of everyone; limber and solid state- marionette- strings, clamoring peace pipes.

Introductory:
You said that may-apples would be ripe in May! Oh! What a revelation I found there, and suddenly I didn't want these games.
Wild and unexpected had left their mark, and you swear that my loneliness is deeper than yours and these lips have tasted swords.
Then lived untouched, pristine and sparkling, and

everyone ever should love you.

• Alternative
• Electronic
• Synthpop
• outsider
• New York