Dominic Riccitello
Feb 18, 2015

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they spoke of crazy atop a life of hatred black that faded and a soul to another with life lived through others yet i sleep with a curve arms to please and a slight bent of the knee a tune of birth cries of bloody murder melody of edge that seem to tremble at bed but a smirk of ease eyes that scream to please, to bleed to feel free with the wind of the eve like sheets that lie underneath we are the sky the eyes that linger at night shadows of the streets people that scream to live, to need and to breathe a growth to understand to lie next to the bed they are the lovers the monsters the thoughts we extend to paper another year to another blender with notions until slumber i love till i know till i can’t anymore we are the knees the slight bent the ones who care and please until the bees steal the honey and the sun turns from ugly it’s my birthday and i’ll cry if i want to