Half A Can Of Alphabet Soup


Acquainted hearts recognize home
Before the mind has the notion to
Calculate how the world looks with out the
Doe-eyed rose colored lenses of love
Everyone is always talking about.
Fuck the fabulists writing the fables
Gaffe in the adventures of romance,
Harrowing experiences that they hide
In the most obscure, but obvious places.
Jocular tones expose our sadden tales,
Kneaded into needing what we think we see,
Lest we forget, love is blind.

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