Tuesday, May 14, 2002

I was captive
in a speeding man-made oven
We were roasting
cooking toasty
well done in our seats
Sun full of fierce fire
burning through our skins
boiling all our blood and
bringing beads of sweet to sighing foreheads
She sang out
giving me chills
under my skin
and I was less and more
and I was so cold

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