Untitled
I should be painting
But I don't understand how I do it
How I ever did it
And that scares the shit outta me
These days all I end up doing is fucking you
Maybe because what we do
is filled with beauty and love
and yearning and begging
and giving and taking
and worshiping and bliss and ecstasy
and agony
and it's dirty
It feels like Art
written '08 or '09
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