do he charts on the pages of the textbook scare you? the coral pinks and reds againt the paper white like cheap mint toothpaste etching fear into yourmind cardboard bitches giggle and they glide down the tile on their own figurative demise I love the way your footfall scatters them like birds they peck and prod at everything let's go hunting. even though each cock of the rifle brings back March when there was the fawn you shot it down its trembling limbs and you carved it so proud that you smoked the meat but you wasted it on a blanket thin and sheer and bland.
