Sunday, February 20, 2011

Thank You Letter To The Pastor After Funeral

first sequence / summer /



/ / /

dream sequences and I love Slayer

first sequence

/ summer /

the arms above the head, ears, elbows out, hands crossed over.
it drops to the right until your hips touch the hair tips.
crack it.
the rib on right.
they would like to mirror the left and make right.
the cat meows.
it is dark, cold.
the tongue is rough - that of the cat.
the tongue-sticking - that of the cat - on her.
her sick.
spits torn cat tongues, Brown, from the chocolate, which has always brought oma.
ride the bus, always the same track. the past has a yellowish-brown hue, like old banana, she is sick.
take the window seat and look outside.
the track-color is painted on individual passing by latent. the windows have patina - the pattern to fit their summer shorts. which it has with flowers - on washed denim, the best so far.
the summer tastes einbisschen old, yet incredibly exciting tastes - salty.
this year they may not like water ice, they eat hot dogs.
sometimes when they drive wheel, she sees a piece of pizza, triangular, lying on the ground, with the tomato sauces page the earth - they want to die once. Bad bad bad
was all - not.
after night with the cat she has dozens of red scratches on the back - is that they specify, on the schoolyard.
she includes her wrists, the red and are blue / green / purple gray. especially purple - and green.
hrün, hrün, hrün, she says, wrapped belts around it.
she finds it nice to feel themselves. she runs her gently on the arm.
also on the left eyebrow, it has a scratch.
she feels like an inferior boxer and would decide to fall almost to hit the bloody knee to final to be wounded ...
Katzenzungen to cat fur, so much goes wrong.

"kind you have tasted good"
she plays the evil wolf in a red cape.

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