residentials recognize the difference, what a walk through these streets ,hands on hands folded, something on park arousing, fingers on tips like its never been this block.

we felt back, and give them the best part. we played and layed, they stayed and spread the rumour, wasnt it a fare tale, in trauma, those who new the cone could bold.

the city been clear the street is ours, the sane been near, the same been ours. I remember you complained, I planely felt, it was fate, the last time we walked with our bodies, touched we tested the end in pleasure. you hated bound by my anoy then you risked a smile blind my accord
that was the last massage we ever read together on the road side wall.
© Raincodes