Blood tastes blue and water feels green
Kisses sound like sandpaper and a touch smells bitter
but baby, your heart looks black
Running through the woods, dogs at your heels,
Bet you don't laugh at ridding hood,
Still you zigzag, a frantic pace to get away
but baby, your heart looks black.















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"Fire is most closely connected to Will"
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... often when I write I am trying to make words do the work of line and colour. I have the painters sensitivity to light. Much (and perhaps the best) of my writing is verbal painting. ~Elizabeth Bowen~
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