i forget to write. write the dreams. i was in new york, i really was, but i was in new york in my dreams and steph was saying i can dance and sing and i've learned german good since the last time we spoke. and she put on a small show of singing and dancing and her hair was so short again. and i said i think some one stole the whole engine out of my car. and she said don't say injun. and i walked the streets and allys and parks till i could feel my way from one subway stop to the next just like braille.
and my old friend keeps writing me and he doesn't know how much it makes me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment